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LOUISA MAY ALCOTT 

DREAMER AND WORKER 



LOUISA MAY ALCOTT 

DREAMER AND WORKER 



A STORY OF ACHIEVEMENT 



BY 



i 



BELLE MOSES 




D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

NEW YORK AND LONDON 

1909 



JnAU 



Copyright, 1909, by 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 



Published October, 1909 



TO 
MY MOTHER 

WHO HAS BEEN TO HER CHILDREN 

WHAT "MARMEE" WAS TO HER 

"LITTLE WOMEN" 



INTRODUCTION. 



Louisa May Alcott occupies a niche peculiarly 
her own in the hearts of American g"irls. No 
writer of fiction, before her time or since, has been 
able to touch the responsive chord that Miss Alcott 
struck in " Little Women " and the many succeed- 
ing girls' stories. Her charm lay, not in plot nor 
excitement, but in the natural, healthy, everyday 
life she spread out before her readers. Incidents 
drawn freely from her own and her sisters' lives 
formed the framework of " Little Women," and 
through her stories, long or short, runs this vein of 
reality. 

From her obscurity as a struggling author she 
sprang to the first place, and her name has since be- 
come a household word. And so I should like to 
introduce Miss Alcott to her girl friends as a girl 
like themselves, who worked, who struggled, and 
who conquered by sheer force of energy and perse- 
verance, not by the great things she did, but by the 
little things that counted most. Forty years ago 
" Little Women " made its bow to the world, and 
forty years hence it will still be found on our girls' 
bookshelves, as fresh and vigorous as ever. 



viii INTRODUCTION. 

Miss Alcott wrote as Shakespeare did, for all time 
and all generations. The element of immortal youth 
is in all her work, and abounds throughout the story 
of her life, which the following pages will strive 
to tell. 

In the preparation of the book I have been in- 
debted to Messrs. Little, Brown & Co., The Ladies' 
Home Journal, my brother, Montrose J. Moses, and 
the writings of Mrs. Cheney, Mrs. Porter, Mrs. 
Clarke, F. B. Sanborn, Miss Cate, and others, 
whose intimate knowledge of the author and her 
life has been of great assistance to me. 

Belle Moses. 

New York, June, 1909. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER PAGE 

I. — Louisa May Arrives i 

II. — A Simple Life 19 

III. — The Heart of a Girl 40 

IV. — Seeking a Vocation 54 

V. — Afloat as an Author 70 

VI. — "Little Women" Grown Up ... 88 

VII. — Progress and Poverty 103 

VIII. — ^The Sign of the Horseshoe . . . 120 

IX. — Louisa to the Front 138 

X. — Recreation and a Trip Abroad . . .158 

XI. — "Little Women" 177 

XII.— "Who's Who?" 194 

XIII. — "Shawl Straps" 211 

XIV. — The Birth of "Little Men" . . . 232 

XV. — Progress and Prosperity , . . .251 

XVI. — More Literary Children .... 273 

XVII. — New Interests and New Friends . . 295 

XVIII. — A Loving Memory 315 



LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 



CHAPTER I. 



LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 




OVEMBER'S child of many moods ar- 
rived on the 29th day, 1832, sharing" the 
birthday of her father and Christopher 
Columbus, if we can believe the records, 
and she first opened her eyes in a large, square, old- 
fashioned house in old-fashioned Germantown, not 
far from Philadelphia. It was somewhat off the 
main street, and was known as The Pinery or Pine 
Place, because of the pines surrounding it, so 
Louisa's tiny nose sniffed the sweet, pungent odor 
before she even thought it worth while to take a 
peep at the world. 

Her father and mother, being- old-fashioned peo- 
ple, were delighted with the new baby, who would 
be such a fine playmate for little Anna, just two 
years old, and though they were as poor as poor 
could be, they welcomed the newcomer with all 
their loving hearts, little dreaming that she would 
prove to be a regular fairy luck child. 



A 



2 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

The first thing she did of any consequence was 
to send her regards to her grandfather, Colonel 
May, to whom Mr. Alcott wrote at once, announc- 
ing her arrival. At the end of the letter he says: 

"With Abba's [Mrs. Alcott's], Anna's, and 
Louisa's regards, allow me to assure you of the 
sincerity with which I am, 

" Yours, 

" A. Bronson Alcott." 

How quaint and stiff and formal those old-time 
letters were ! 

By all accounts Louisa was a beautiful baby, a de- 
light to play with, to cuddle, and to kiss. And 
though Germantown happened by accident to be her 
birthplace, she was — from the crown of her head 
to the toes of her active feet — of sturdy New Eng- 
land stuff. 

Her father, Amos Bronson Alcott, was born in 
1799, thirty-three years before Louisa came, at the 
foot of Spindle Hill, in the region called New Con- 
necticut. His family name in the old English rec- 
ords had been Alcocke, and belonged to a line of 
English gentlemen who came over to America and 
took up farming in New England. Some called the 
name Alcox, but when Amos Bronson and his 
cousin William set out to seek their fortunes, they 
changed it to Alcott; while another branch of the 
family called themselves Olcott. 

Mrs. Alcott was the twelfth and youngest child 



LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 3 

of Colonel Joseph May, and was related also to the 
Quinceys and Sewalls of Massachusetts fame. Her 
brother, Samuel J. May, was a Unitarian minister, 
and a very prominent man in his day — a day of 
many great men. Mrs. Alcott was a woman of 
grace and refinement, so little Louisa and her sisters, 
the four " Little Women " — Meg, Jo, Beth, and 
Amy — so dear to every girl's heart, had a rich heri- 
tage by birth, no matter how little they had of other 
riches. 

Mr. Alcott was teaching school when Louisa was 
born, but he had new ways of teaching which the ^ 
stolid Germantown people did not like, so his school 
was not successful, and he moved to Boston when 
Louisa was two years old — a chubby little mischief, 
who " got lost " on her very first journey. 

They traveled by boat from Philadelphia to Bos- 
ton ; Anna and Louisa, spick and span, in clean nan- 
keen suits, when it was suddenly discovered that 
Louisa was missing. High and low they searched, 
until at last they found her in the engine room, 
placidly poking into places that were " all nice and 
dirty " — looking, no doubt, " all nice and dirty," 
too. How she came there she never explained ; she 
might have been on a voyage of discovery, or made 
friends with the engine man, or wanted to " see the 
wheels go round," for she was of a most inquiring 
mind, but at any rate she had enjoyed herself. 

In Boston the real home life began. It would 
have been hard to find a happier couple than Mr, 



4 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Alcott and his wife, and the two little girls grew 
and expanded in an atmosphere of love and intelli- 
gence. Mr. Alcott became head of the Temple 
School, where he felt free to teach his new ideas in 
his own way; but Louisa was too young to attend 
school except for an occasional visit, though her 
education began at an unusually early age. Kinder- 
gartens were unknown in those days, yet Mr. Al- 
cott was ahead of his time and had real kindergarten 
ideas about making study pleasant for the children, 
whose quick minds flew to knowledge. Two more 
little girls were added to the family group. Eliza- 
beth, the Beth of " Little Women," was born 
during the six years spent in Boston; there was 
also a tiny boy who never lived; then came Abbey 
May, the baby and pet of the family. Amy in the 
story, who was born in the happy Concord days 
that immediately followed the unfortunate years 
in Boston. 

Louisa at a very early age began to have 
" thinks," one could scarcely call them thoughts, for 
they went on all the time and were too large and 
indefinite to classify. This small person, in moments 
when her animal spirits were not leading her into 
paths of strange adventure, was much given to re- 
flection ; her little soul was a turbulent, unruly thing ; 
she was often sad because of it, and had her fits of 
gloom like many an older person. But a whiff of 
fresh air, a kindly word, the sense of human com- 
panionship and sympathy, worked a magic cure, and 



LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 5 

she would be once more the hearty, happy child, who 
*' loved everybody in dis whole world." 

Such a nature as hers could not have had two 
better guides. Her father encouraged this habit of 
reflection, and discussed her small troubles with her 
as gravely as he handled heavier matters, while her 
mother steered her safely through the practical de- 
tails of her daily life, each fired with the unselfish 
desire to give the best to the little girl. 

From the time they could guide their pens and 
put their thoughts on paper, the Alcott children were 
required to keep a journal and write down freely V- 
their thoughts and doings from day to day. These 
journals were always open for inspection and guid- 
ing criticism from both father and mother, and be- 
came fine records of the growth of mind and char- 
acter. 

Food for the mind was placed first in Mr. Alcott's 
ideas of education. It was his conviction that the 
simplest food for the body produced the highest 
thinking and living, and the children were brought 
up on this principle. " Goodies " such as children 
love never came their way, unless in the shape of 
fruits. What was plucked from trees or plants or 
dug from the ground was healthy, natural food in 
his opinion, while he considered it wrong to eat and 
enjoy anything which had to be killed for the pur- 
pose. But during the Boston days, when the chil- 
dren were too young to be reasoned with, they found 
that rice without sugar, and Graham meal minus 



6 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

butter or molasses, was most uninteresting fare and 
extremely tiresome. A lady friend, who chanced 
to be living in luxury at a hotel in Boston, fell into 
the habit of saving delicious bits of pie and cake for 
the young Alcotts, and Louisa often carried them 
home in a bandbox, which she brought for that 
purpose. Years afterwards, when she became fa- 
mous, she met this friend in the street and greeted 
her cordially. 

" Why, my dear ! " exclaimed the old lady, " I 
did not think you would remember me." 

" Do you think I shall ever forget that band- 
box? " replied Louisa quickly. 

Still it seems highly improbable that Mr. Alcott 
deprived his children entirely of meat, for in his 
diary, in speaking of their healthy appetites, he says 
of Louisa : " She enjoys her food, partaking of 
animal food with great relish." 

Her first memory of herself is of playing with 
the books in her father's study, " building houses 
and bridges of the big dictionaries and diaries, look- 
ing at pictures, pretending to read, and scribbling on 
blank pages, whenever pen or pencil could be found." 

" On one occasion," she says, in a sketch of her 
childhood, " we built a high tower around baby Liz- 
zie, as she sat playing with her toys on the floor, and 
being attracted by something out of doors, forgot 
our little prisoner. A search was made, and patient 
baby at last discovered curled up and fast asleep in 
her dungeon cell, out of which she emerged so rosy 



LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 7 

and smiling- after her nap, that we were forgiven 
for our carelessness." 

The Alcotts always celebrated their birthdays with 
great enthusiasm. The gifts were hidden from 
view, the queen of the festival was escorted to the 
seat of honor to the sound of a march, always a 
moment of overwhelming embarrassment, until the 
packages were opened and thanks and kisses sprin- 
kled liberally. Louisa's memory of her fourth birth- 
day is very vivid ; she celebrated it in her father's 
schoolroom at Masonic Temple. She wore a crown 
of flowers and stood on a table to receive congratula- 
tions from all the children. As each of her guests 
passed by, the " birthday girl " bestowed a small 
cake, but by some accident the cakes fell short, and 
when Louisa came to the last one it was suddenly 
borne in upon her that if she gave it away she would 
have none left for herself. This seemed most unjust 
as it was Jicr birthday, but a few wise words from 
her mother turned the scale, 

" It is always better to give away than to keep the 
nice things; so I know my Louy will not let the 
little friend go without." 

" So," writes Miss Alcott, " the little friend re- 
ceived the dear, plummy cake, and I a kiss, and my 
first lesson in the sweetness of self-denial." 

Little Louisa had one sad habit; she was fond of 
running away, and on one of these interesting oc- 
casions she spent the day with some Irish children, 
who shared a very frugal and a very salty dinner 



8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

with her, after which they played in the ash heaps, 
and later took a trip to the Common. Presently her 
friends deserted her; it grew dark, and she began 
to long for home. She finally sat down on a wel- 
come doorstep beside a friendly big dog, who kindly 
allowed her to use his back as a pillow. She was 
roused from sleep by the town crier, who had been 
sent in search of her by her distracted parents. She 
says : " His bell and proclamation of the loss of * a 
little girl six years old, in a pink frock, white hat, 
and new green shoes ' woke me up,, and a small voice 
answered out of the darkness : * Why, dat's me ' ! " 

Very much the same thing happened to Naughty 
Nan in " Little Men," when she and Roh got lost, 
and it seems that Louisa's escapade was punished 
as Nan's was. The runaway was tied to the arm of 
a sofa next day, to cure her of the wandering habit. 
She was an athletic little soul; she loved to climb 
trees and leap fences and run races like a young deer 
or colt. It was nothing unusual for her to drive her 
hoop around the Common, and her friendships were 
always based on powers of achievement. Barring 
her own sisters, girls were nothing to her unless they 
were tomboys, but boys appealed to her through their 
prowess ; the boy who could not equal her in lively 
sports deserved no place in her friendship; he who 
excelled was worshiped as a hero, and Louisa had 
many heroes in her active youth. 

At the age of seven her particular idol was a cer- 
tain Frank, who was a lord of creation and loftily 



LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 9 

permitted her devotion. He used to amuse himself 
by slapping her hands with books, hoopsticks, shoes, 
or anything which could give a good stinging blow, 
hoping to make her cry; but she bore the pain with 
fortitude, quite repaid when she heard him tell the 
other boys " she's a brave little thing and you can't 
make her cry." There were long days of romping, 
and happy evenings snuggled in sofa corners, plan- 
ning tricks and eating stolen " goodies," and 
" sometimes," she tells us in "My Boys," a jolly little 
story of her early loves, " Frank would put his curly 
head in my lap and let me stroke it when he was 
tired." But this boy, alas! proved treacherous and 
gave his adorer up to a punishment which she had 
justly deserved, but which she had tried to escape 
by locking herself in the dining room ; this false 
friend, with the twinkling eyes and the curly hair, 
climbed in at the window and unlocked the door, 
adding insult to injury by helping to bear her off 
to imprisonment. This was a sad blow to Louisa; 
she would have been stanch and true under any 
circumstances, and she never forgave this first love 
of hers, though he tempted her with offers of pea- 
nuts and candy, ginger snaps and car rides. She 
had lost faith in his loyalty. 

Loyalty was a star characteristic of the Alcott 
family. No matter what the cause or how forlorn 
the hope, if he deemed it just and wise, and for the 
benefit of his fellow-creatures, Mr. Alcott fought 
for it with his whole soul, and clung to it with his 



lO LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

whole strength. Shoulder to shoulder with him 
stood his brave wife loyally supporting him, while 
her capable hands toiled to make the burdens lighter, 
and the little girls — each early impressed with the 
responsibility of looking after her soul — were always 
loyal to the trust and to each other, and to the father 
and mother, to whom they so freely brought their 
small troubles and perplexities. 

So the home of the Alcotts was rich in love and 
loyalty, but poor in worldly goods. Mr. Alcott's 
Boston school began to dwindle sadly, until he found 
himself at last with but five pupils, three of whom 
were his own daughters. This was unfortunate, for 
he was a born teacher, enthusiastic, cultured, and 
devoted to young people. He has said himself: 
" When one becomes indifferent to women, to chil- 
dren and to young people, he may know that he is 
superannuated, and has withdrawn from whatso- 
ever is sweetest and purest in human existence." 
The cause of his unpopularity was to be found in 
the very strong views he held on antislavery. Bos- 
ton had not yet put on her war paint, and the single- 
minded gentleman almost lost caste on account of 
his advanced opinions. He was compelled to give 
up his school, and the " Pathetic Family," as Louisa 
often called them in later years, moved to historic 
old Concord, where the three little girls found an- 
other little sister and spent the happiest years of 
their lives. 

Going to Concord, away from big and busy Bos- 



LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. II 

ton, was like going into the country, and the three 
young ones always enjoyed that when they went on 
brief summer outings to Scituate. In Concord they 
had a pleasant house, a garden full of trees, and a 
big barn, which was their delight, and where they 
produced many marvelous plays, products of their 
own busy brains. Both Anna and Louisa had a 
wonderful gift for acting, and the old barn was the 
scene of many triumphs. They dramatized the fairy 
tales in fine style — " Jack and the Beanstalk," 
" Cinderella " and others. That moral tale of 
the foolish woman who wasted her three wishes 
was admirably illustrated by a big black pudding, 
which was lowered by invisible hands until it fas- 
tened itself upon her nose. 

Playing pilgrims was a favorite amusement when 
they were little. " Sometimes," as Miss Alcott tells 
us in her recollections, they " journeyed over the 
hill with scrip and staff and cockle-shells in their 
hats." At other times, so vividly described in " Lit- 
tle Women," their mother tied her piece-bags on 
their backs for burdens, gave them hats, sticks, and 
rolls of paper, and sent them from the cellar, which 
was the City of Destruction, to the housetop, which 
was the Celestial City, and being nothing if not 
dramatic, as well as little earnest, toiling Christians, 
they acted out their progress during their upward 
journey. There was plenty of religion in the Al- 
cott household, moments of holy enthusiasm, born 
of Nature and the love of it. 



12 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

One can fancy Louisa's restless feet taking her 
over the hills at dawn one summer morning; the 
rest in the silent woods, the glimpse of the sun ris- 
ing over the hills, were awe-inspiring to the thought- 
ful child. She tells us herself that she felt as she 
had never felt before, God's presence near her, and, 
as she says, she got religion in that quiet hour. 

Here, in the open, they learned their lessons, 
charming nature lessons, with their father as teacher. 
Their mother was generally with them in their hours 
of recreation; she was an admirable manager and 
she made it a rule to rise early in the morning, to 
finish all the work in the forenoon, so that the after- 
noon could be devoted to the children. This was a 
time of wandering in the woods under clear sum- 
mer skies, telling stories, playing games, and spout- 
ing poetry. There were friends, too, to share these 
pleasures, the young Emersons, the Hawthornes, the' 
Channings, and the Goodwins — all children of re- 
markable parents. 

Dr. Edward W. Emerson, one of the " boys," 
gives us a delightful glimpse of Mrs. Alcott in her 
relations with her children : " She was not only lov- 
ing and sympathetic, but she had a well-stored and 
fertile mind. From her they learned to depend on 
themselves for good times, and their imaginations 
were quickened. The zeal of the mother in helping 
on her children's little plans appears in a touching 
sentence in a story of Louisa's, describing a school 
masquerade such as we had later. The fathers 



LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 13 

might grudge the expense. ' But the mothers, 
whose interest in their children's pleasure is a sort 
of evergreen that no frost of time can kill, sewed 
spangles by the bushel, and made wildernesses of 
tissue paper blossom like the rose, kept tempers 
sweet, stomachs full, and domestic machinery work- 
ing through it all, by that maternal magic which 
makes them the human providences of this naughty 
world.' " 

Louisa became the devoted mother of a doll at 
the age of seven, and her mother wrote the follow- 
ing letter to go with the birthday gift : 

** My Dear Little Girl : 

" Will you accept this doll from me on your sev- 
enth birthday? She will be a quiet playmate for 
my active Louisa for seven years more. Be a kind 
mamma and love her for my sake. 

"Your Mother. 

" Beach Street, Boston, 1839." 

Dolls were always a source of pleasure to the Al- 
cott children, they became living things in their pos- 
session. Louisa put hers through every experience 
of life, and at twelve she was a regular doll's dress- 
maker, hung out her sign and invited custom. 

Those early Concord days saw the first dawning 
of creative power in the little girl, and the poem 
written to the half-starved robin they found in the 
garden one cold morning, and warmed and fed, was 



14 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Louisa's first effort. It was written when she was 
eight years old. 

To THE First Robin. 

Welcome, welcome, little stranger. 
Fear no harm and fear no danger; 
We are glad to see you here, 
For you sing "Sweet Spring is near." 

Now the white snow melts away ; 
Now the flowers blossom gay : 
Come, dear bird, and build your nest, 
For we love our robin best. 

Mrs. Alcott was so delighted that she predicted 
that Louisa would become a second Shakespeare. 
And indeed from this time the little girl's many 
thoughts took shape in verse, and the pen which her 
mother gave her on her tenth birthday was thereafter 
put into active service. Perhaps the best record of 
these little " pilgrims' progress " is found in their 
father's diaries. He knew each child, to the core of 
her innocent heart. Louisa and Anna, so near of an 
age, were totally different in character. Anna was 
spirited, but sweet and tractable at most times, but 
Louisa was turbulent. If Anna had anything she, 
Louisa, wanted, she claimed it at once, with " en- 
treaties, tears, even blows." 

On one occasion the subject of dispute was a cer- 
tain rocking chair, in which both wanted to sit. 



LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 15 

They were very angry, and the fight was hot, when 
Mr. Alcott interfered. 

" Anna, can you not give up the chair to your 
sister? " he asked. 

" No, I cannot," was her prompt reply. 

" I will leave you to try then," he went on. 

" Very well, father, I will try," she answered 
coolly, " and now I think we can get along without 
you." 

Mr. Alcott retreated to his study, but the noise 
grew so unbearable that he was forced to rush again 
to the rescue. This time he separated the combat- 
ants, and the bribe of an apple lured Anna peaceably 
to the study. 

" And now, Anna," said her father, as she sat 
placidly nibbling the rosy fruit, " did you give up 
the chair to Louisa because you loved your sister, 
or because you wanted the apple? " 

" Because I wanted the apple," she calmly replied. 

Thinking to make more impression on the victo- 
rious Louisa, he paid a third visit to the nursery — 
the seat of battle. Of this visit he made no record, 
beyond the brief statement that — 

" Louisa had taken the chair ! " 

The nursery was a place of delight to the young- 
sters for acting out the stories Father told them in 
the twilight — the children's hour. They would go 
to bed with their eager young minds full of sprites 
and fairies, good and bad aingels. smiling skies, 
crystal raindrops, gurgling waters, and beautiful gar- 



l6 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

dens with bright walls around them, and the next 
day they would remember the stories in their own 
fanciful way. One of these tales they called " The 
Garden of Goodness." Another favorite was " The 
Story of a Little Feeling," a tale in which Love and 
Hate fought for a little girl's heart. This was acted 
with great success. 

Indeed, whatever particularly impressed them they 
acted out at once, Louisa taking the principal parts, 
as soon as she had overcome her baby lisp, Anna 
slipping good-naturedly into the second place. 

On their nursery bookshelves couW be found all 
the best reading for children in those days, and to 
the girls of to-day the following list of well-selected 
books must look queer and old-fashioned. 

List of the Alcott Books. 

Frank. ^ 

Cherry Orchard. >• Miss Edgeworth. 

Liar and Boys of Truth. ) 

Lessons for Children. ) 

Little Henri. \ ^^'- ^^^^^' 

Original Poems for Infant 

Minds. }■ Ann and Jane Taylor. 

Rhymes for the Nursery 
Familiar Tales. 
The Rosebud. 

The Daisy, ]■ Mrs. Crabb. 

The Cowslip. 

Little Rhymes. | Mrs. Follen. 

The Child's Gem. 3 



LOUISA MAY ARRIVES. 1 7 

Hannah Lee. j 

Little ^\ Oman and Pedlar. >■ Wilson. 

Mother Goose. ) 

Poems for Children. Mrs. Hales. 

Babes in the Woods. 

Cinderella. 

The Looking Glass. 

A funny collection, but gems to the Alcott chil- 
dren, who made the best use of them, acting out 
each story to their own satisfaction. " The Old 
W'oman and the Pedlar " was a special favorite, 
and called forth much applause. 

Louisa's earliest responsibility, a responsibility 
which fell heavily on each of the " Little Women," 
was her conscience. The careful father had early 
taught them that conscience consisted of a mind and 
a soul. The mind was a round room, and the soul 
a little creature with wings, that lived in it. The 
walls were full of shelves and drawers, in which 
they kept their thoughts, and there were goodness 
and badness and all sorts of things. The goodness 
could always be seen, and the badness was always 
locked up tight. But it got out somehow and they 
had a hard time putting it back and squeezing it 
down, it was so strong. Louisa often played with 
her thoughts when she was alone or in bed, and 
many a night she would wake up to see the moon 
streaming through her window, and turn to her 
thoughts for company. Every Sunday she put her 
room in order, and talked with the little spirit that 



l8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

lived there, in very much the grown-up way that her 
father talked to her. Though at times she shook 
her head despondently because her room was in dis- 
order, and though the lock was not always strong 
enough to keep the badness shut up, there was al- 
ways Father to consult about putting better things 
in the drawer, and Mother to help clear away cob- 
webs from the nooks and corners where the bad- 
ness lay hidden, and an earnest, ardent little girl, 
who was beginning to have high thoughts and noble 
purposes, and her own opinion of men and things. 



CHAPTER 11. 



A SIMPLE LIFE. 




HEN Louisa was nearly ten years old, Mr. 
Alcott went to England where he met a 
great many people who agreed with his 
peculiar ideas of education and of living. 
For a long time he had been thinking of a plan which 
would enable a large number of people to live un- 
der the same roof in absolute harmony and brotherly 
love. It was to be a little community, each member 
of which, by the work of his or her hands, was to 
add a share to the " family " support. Their watch- 
words were to be love and purity ; simple living and 
high thinking were to mark their daily lives. In 
his great, loving mind, arose a picture of this ideal 
home, and he presented it so beautifully to the eyes 
of his friends that they became enthusiastic and 
many promised to join him in this scheme. 

One of these, a Mr. Lane,' came back to America 
with Mr. Alcott, and for many months he made 
his home with the Alcott family, while plans were 
discussed and kindred spirits were drawn into the 
experiment. After much talk they decided to secure 
a small estate of about a hundred acres, suitable for 

19 



20 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

agriculture and fruit growing, and this they found 
at last near the village of Harvard, Mass., called no 
doubt after that same John Harvard who gave his 
name to the college at Cambridge. This property- 
was situated most beautifully on a hillside sloping 
to the river, with lovely views to the west, while 
in the background rose the towering, tree-covered 
summit of Prospect Hill. The eager philosophers 
named the place Friiitlands in anticipation of har- 
vests to come, and from Miss Alcott herself, in a 
clever little story called " Transcendental Wild 
Oats," we have the following account of the journey 
of the Alcott family to their new home : 

" On the first day of June, 184 — , a large wagon, 
drawn by a small horse and containing a motley 
load, went lumbering over certain New England 
hills with the pleasing accompaniment of wind, rain, 
and hail. A serene man, with a serene child upon 
his knee, was driving, or rather being driven, for the 
small horse had it all his own way. A brown boy, 
with a William Penn sort of countenance, sat be- 
side him, firmly embracing a bust of Socrates. Be- 
hind them was an energetic-looking woman, with 
a benevolent brow, satirical mouth, and eyes full of 
hope and courage. A baby reposed upon her lap, a 
mirror leaned against her knee, and a basket of 
provisions danced about at her feet, as she struggled 
with a large, unruly umbrella. Two blue-eyed lit- 
tle girls, with hands full of childish treasures, sat 
under one old shawl, chatting happily together," 



A SIMPLE LIFE. 21 

There was no road leading- to the house, which 
could not be seen that rainy afternoon through the 
blur of the landscape, and there is no doubt that the 
large wagon and the small horse floundered help- 
lessly in the mud many times on the journey, until 
they drew up at last before the old red farmhouse 
which was to be their home, just as a beautiful 
rainbow broke throug-li the gray sky at the close of 
the day. So, looking on this as an omen of good 
cheer, the little girls sprang from the wagon in high 
spirits, and the older people followed, with baskets, 
bundles, umbrella, and baby. The mirror had long 
ago met its fate with a crash. 

There was a glimmer of light shining from the 
windows of the old red house, but there was no 
furniture as yet, so the tired Alcott family sat 
around on blocks of wood, and enjoyed a supper of 
roasted potatoes, brown bread and water, and went 
to bed — Heaven knows where or how — for history 
has left no record of that first night at Fruitlands. 

It must have been a queer change for the three lit- 
tle girls. Baby May, of course, was too young to 
think much about her surroundings, and Lizzie, hap- 
py little soul, would have been contented anywhere 
with those she loved best around her. But Anna 
and Louisa opened their blue eyes questioningly and 
sometimes disapprovingly. They loved the country, 
and even the surroundings of the house were allur- 
ing; the old barn, the orchard, the meadow lands 
beyond, and the beautiful grove, so full of a dim, 



22 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT, 

religious calm ; but the regulations for everyday liv- 
ing were too much for such independent youngsters. 
The rule of the household was to rise at dawn and 
go to bed at sunset, and it is no wonder that poor 
Louisa spent many wakeful hours in bed, and had 
to recite poetry to lull herself to sleep. 

There are many people in the world who are only 
too eager to laugh at the efforts of those who try 
to make it better, and poor Mr. Alcott, for all his 
lofty ideals, was laughed at by friends and foes, who 
stood apart to watch the experiment. Mrs. Alcott 
did not share her husband's dreams of simplicity 
and purity, but she respected his wishes in regard 
to the bringing-up of their little girls, whose healthy 
young appetites looked for nothing better than the 
fruit of the tree and the products of the earth. This 
coming to Fruitlands, they fondly believed, was to 
be a perpetual picnic. 

The furniture for their new home arrived the 
next day, and then the plan of living was discussed ; 
of course by the elders, the duty of the young ones 
was to obey. 

Mr. Lane, Mr. Alcott's English friend, made him- 
self master of Fruitlands, and proceeded to govern 
his little colony with a firmness which amounted to 
severity. During the time he lived in the Alcott 
household, before the experiment was put into prac- 
tice, he had taught the little girls, but he had never 
won their hearts nor gained their confidence. Per- 
haps they resented the calm manner in which he 



A SIMPLE LIFE. 23 

thrust their clever father, whom they adored, into 
the background, while he decided what should or 
should not be done. 

The question of clothes was the very first thing 
to be discussed. Mr. Alcott suggested linen, and 
his idea was adopted at once, as it was summer and 
nobody thought of the cold weather. Mr. Lane 
said that nothing must be used which caused wrong 
or death to man or beast, and as silk was made by 
the killing of the silkworms, wool by robbing the 
sheep of their coats, and cotton by the labor of 
slaves, linen was all that was left. The entire 
" family " wore tunics and trousers of brown linen. 
The women's skirts were longer, and their straw 
hat-brims were wider than the men's, and that was 
the only difference in costume. As to shoes, no one 
could think at first of anything but leather. Bark, 
wood, or some durable fabric might be invented in 
time, but those who washed might go barefooted. 
Here Mrs. Alcott had a word : " I never will, nor 
my girls either," she said firmly. The four little 
girls must have presented a strange picture in such 
attire, but they played and romped quite happily, for 
the lack of pretty clothes was the least of their wor- 
ries. What to eat, or at least what not to eat, was 
a much more serious question. 

Poor Mrs, Alcott wrung her capable hands in 
despair when she took command of their grim-look- 
ing kitchen and the responsibility of their daily 

bill of fare. She had eleven in the family, after- 
3 



24 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

wards increased to sixteen, and her larder contained 
" cakes of maple sugar, dried peas and beans, barley 
and hominy, meal of all sorts, potatoes and dried 
fruit." Milk, butter, cheese, tea, and meat were for- 
bidden, and salt and spices were looked upon as 
useless luxuries. Now what could the best of cooks 
do under those circumstances? If Mrs. Alcott had 
not been blessed with a wonderful disposition and 
power of endurance, she could never have pulled 
through the experiment, but having lived on a vege- 
table diet for many years, she managed to give her 
hungry nestlings the following rich fare during 
these days : 

For B^'eakfasf-r-Unleayened bread, porridge, and 
water. 

For Dinner — Bread, vegetables, and water. 

For Supper — Bread, fruit, and water. 
Fancy four jolly little girls pinned down to such 
food day after day, with no " extra best " for Sun- 
days ! 

In those days there was no kerosene oil; what 
was used in the lamps was made of some animal 
substance, and the wise ones decreed that no oil 
should be used until some vegetable oil or wax was 
discovered, but, after several experiments, Mrs. Al- 
cott rebelled again. Evening was her only time of 
rest, and she could then mend the torn dresses, and 
darn the stockings of her little girls. So " Mother's 
Lamp " became a fixture, while the wise men who 
ruled at Fruitlands sat out in the moonlight, when 



A SIMPLE LIFE. 25 

there was a moon, and talked over their plans and 
hopes; but we may be pretty certain that when it 
rained, some of them clustered round that same des- 
pised lamp, glad of its genial rays. 

The farmers had the hardest time of all ; they 
labored entirely with their hands, spading and hoe- 
ing, until blisters and aching backs made a plow 
absolutely necessary ; then, one of the " brothers " 
brought a yoke of oxen from his farm. " So," Miss 
Alcott writes, " the philosophers thougJit, until it 
was discovered that one of the animals was a cow, 
and Moses confessed that he ' must be let down 
easy, for he couldn't live on garden sarse entirely.' " 
But time pressed, the work must be done, " so the 
meek cow was permitted to wear the yoke, and the 
recreant ' brother ' continued to enjoy forbidden 
draughts [of milk] in the barn, which dark pro- 
ceeding caused the children to regard him as one 
set apart for destruction." 

There were only two women at Frnitlands, Mrs. 
Alcott and Miss Anna Page, who gave the children 
music lessons. She is described by Miss Alcott in 
after life as " a stout lady of mature years, senti- 
mental, amiable and lazy." In Louisa's childish 
journal she expresses herself more forcibly : " I had 
a music lesson with Miss P. I hate her, she is so 
fussy." 

This lady either could not or would not help with 
the household drudgery, and on one occasion when 
asked how many beasts of burden were on the place, 



26 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Mrs. Alcott replied, " Only one woman." The 
placid Miss Page laughed with the others at the 
joke, but still she did not " lend a hand." She left 
very soon under the most humiliating circum- 
stances ; she had been caught by one of the children 
eating the tail of a fish at a neighbor's house ! Her 
terrible conduct was reported and she was severely 
scolded, whereupon she packed up bag and baggage 
and departed in high dudgeon. 

Anna and Louisa put their sturdy little shoulders 
to the wheel and " helped mother " between study 
hours. Here are some samples of their daily life, 
taken from Louisa's journal written during that first 
year, 1843, when she was ten years old : 

" September ist. — -I rose at five and had my bath ; 
I love cold water ! Then we had our singing lesson 
^ with Mr. Lane. After breakfast I washed dishes, 
and ran on the hill till nine, and had some thoughts 
— it was so beautiful up there. Did my lessons — 
wrote and spelt and did some sums; and Mr. Lane 
read a story, ' The Judicious Father.' . . . Father 
asked us what was God's noblest work. Anna said 
men, but I said babies. Men are often bad; babies 
never are. We had a long talk and I felt better 
after it and cleared up." 

It is very plain that Louisa was puzzled over the 
term " men ; " babies evidently, in her small mind, 
belonged to another order of human beings, and it 
cost her father some trouble to explain to his in- 
quiring little daughter that babies and men were 



A SIMPLE LIFE. 27 

really the flower and fruit of the same tree. Louisa 
continues : 

" We had bread and fruit for dinner. I read 
and walked and played till supper time. We sang 
in the evening-. As I went to bed the moon came 
up very brightly and looked at me. I felt sad be- 
cause I have been cross to-day and did not mind 
Mother. I cried and then I felt better and said that 
piece from Mrs. Sigourney, ' I must not tease my 
Mother.' I get to sleep saying poetry. I know a 
great deal."' 

" Thursday, nth. — Mr. Parker Pillsbury came 
and we talked about the poor slaves." 

This was always an absorbing subject to Louisa, 
as it was to every member of the family. At the 
age of two, her mother says, she showed a strong 
leaning toward antislavery. Certain it is that from 
the time a colored boy saved her from drowning 
in the Frog Pond in Boston she became a stanch 
friend of the slaves, and had she been a man when 
the war came, she would gladly have marched to 
battle for their freedom. 

She speaks of a run in the woods that same day, 
where she played being a horse and had a lovely 
time with Anna and Lizzie. They played fairies 
and made gowns and paper wings, and she " flied " 
highest of all. Dear little girl ! She was always 
flying high in her imagination and falling short in 
her small efforts, and examining her small sins in 
her merciless child fashion. 



28 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

On Sunday, October 21st, she says: " Father and 
Mr. Lane have gone to New Hampshire to preach. 
It was very lovely." 

We cannot help smiling and wondering if she 
meant it was lovely at Fruitlands without the 
preaching. Anna and Louisa got supper, not such 
hard work considering the bill of fare. 

On the 8th of October, her mother's birthday, 
Louisa made a moss cross and wrote a piece of 
poetry for her. They had no school, but played in 
the woods and got red leaves. In the evening they 
danced and sang. Louisa read a story about " Con- 
tentment " and wished " that she was rich and good 
and all were a happy family this day." 

" Tuesday, October 12th. — After lessons I 
ironed. We all went to the barn and husked corn, 
it was good fun. We worked till eight o'clock and 
had lamps, Mr. Russell came. Mother and Lizzie 
are going to Boston. I shall be very lonely with- 
out dear little Betty, and no one will be as good to 
me as Mother. I read in Plutarch. I made a verse 
about sunset : 

Softly doth the sun descend 
I To his couch behind the hill, 

Then, oh, then I love to sit 
On mossy banks beside the rill. 

Anna thought it was very fine; but I didn't like it 
very well." 

It was no uncommon thing for Anna and Louisa 
to do the housework, and in the evening when they 



A SIMPLE LIFE. 29 

were very tired, Mr. Lane would ask, in a casual 
way, a question for discussion, for instance : " What 
is man?" These weary Httle girls were required 
to answer intelligently, after which ensued a long 
talk, and they went to bed exhausted. 

But there were moments of real joy for the young 
folks, in spite of many privations. Every event in 
the family, every celebration was a woodland fes- 
tival. On little May's third birthday she was es- 
corted by the entire household at Fruitlands, to the 
grove which was reserved for gala occasions. Here 
she was crowned with flowers, and an ode, written 
by her father, was spoken by him in celebration of 
the opening of this paradise. 

Their gifts to one another were always Nature's 
treasures, for money being forbidden, it would have 
been hard to secure anything else ; and many were 
the dainty things the Alcott children learned to 
make, and doubtless the pressed wild flowers and 
artistic efforts in moss gave just as much pleasure 
as more costly articles. Then the little girls had 
their dolls, and much time was happily passed in 
working for them and making them gay clothes, 
quite unlike the sober linens they were forced to 
wear. 

And so with plenty of work and study and play, 
the first summer at Fruitlands passed uneventfully 
enough, and the little girls were learning to accept 
with patience and cheerfulness their very queer lot 
in life. 



30 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

The days grew shorter, and the grain was stacked 
ready to house. It was not much of a harvest, but 
it had to be brought in. Mrs. Alcott, always watch- 
ful for the good of others, noticed that a storm was 
coming up, and she knew the rain would ruin the 
yellow stacks. She had no time to lose, and not a 
man on the place to help her; all were away on 
some higher mission. So she gathered her forces, 
which consisted of Anna, Louisa, Lizzie, Mr. Lane's 
son and herself, who were harnessed to clothes bas- 
kets and linen sheets ; these were the only teams she 
could command, but the plucky lady set out un- 
daunted, and got in the grain just in time to save 
it from destruction. 

Indeed, had it not been for her constant provision 
and foresight, the little colony would have gone to 
pieces long before it did, as it was sustained on 
little more than high spirits and everlasting hope. 
They discovered that they could not support them- 
selves on pure living, that provisions of the simplest 
kind had to be paid for, and the use of money being 
forbidden, it was often found impossible to obtain 
even the barest necessities of life in any other way. 
But Mr. Alcott's philosophy never wavered. He 
was a reformer who took his own medicine, and the 
beautiful allegories and fables which he created for 
the education of the young ones preached lessons 
of patience, endurance, and perseverance, which 
sank deep into their childish hearts and helped them 
through the hard winter indoors. 



A SIMPLE LIFE. 3I 

Yet even winter held compensations for these 
small philosophers; there were the long evenings 
around the lamp, with father and mother, quite 
alone. Then Anna and Louisa would sew for their 
dolls, and Mother would sew for them, and Father 
would read aloud from Plato, or Plutarch, or from 
dear " Pilgrim's Progress," as on one occasion 
Louisa mentions in her journal. Mr. Lane was in 
Boston, whereat they rejoiced. It was not often 
the Alcotts could talk among themselves of their 
worries and perplexities, but on this night the two 
little girls joined the family council and there was a 
long, confidential talk, for things were looking very 
dark for Fruitlands. 

" We all cried," writes Louisa, " Anna and I 
cried in bed, and I prayed God to keep us all to- 
gether." So there must have been some hint of 
sending the little girls away, for a while, from all 
this poverty and privation. It seemed, however, 
that the separation had to come, for Anna left home 
soon after, and Louisa missed her dreadfully. 
These two little sisters, so near of an age, were all 
in all to each other. Their lessons ran along the 
same lines, their journals recorded the same events, 
each one writing in her own characteristic fashion. 
Their numerous dramas, or at least melodramas, 
were the joint products of their vivid imaginations, 
and these they acted together in the old barn, Anna 
preferring the sentimental parts, and Louisa any- 
thing which required action and dialogue, even tak- 



32 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

ing the villain's parts if they filled these require- 
ments. So with Anna away, one can well imagine 
Louisa's loneliness, which at the age of eleven she 
expressed in this fashion : 

To Anna. 

Sister, dear, when you are lonely. 

Longing for yovir distant home. 
And the images of loved ones 

Warmly to your heart shall come, 
Then, mid tender thoughts and fancies, 

Let one fond voice say to thee, 
"Ever when your heart is heavy, 

Anna, dear, then think of me." 

Think how we two have together 

Journeyed onward day by day, 
Joys and sorrows ever sharing, 

While the swift years roll away. 
Then may all the sunny hours 

Of our youth rise up to thee. 
And when your heart is light and happy, 

Anna, dear, then think of me. 

Besides the journals, the children had imagina- 
tion books, in which they were allowed to write 
anything that popped into their busy little heads, 
and this was a constant source of delight to Louisa, 
who was always thinking of something original, 
and she had arrived at an age when she was greedily 
drinking in knowledge from all sources. During 



A SIMPLE LIFE. 33 

the Fruitlands experiment, which lasted from her 
tenth to her thirteenth year, she read Plato, Socrates, 
Plutarch, Scott, Martin Luther, Miss Bremer, Bet- 
tine's correspondence with Goethe ; and " Philo- 
thea," a story by Mrs, Child, charmed her so much 
that the young Alcotts dramatized it and acted it 
with much glory, under the trees. Every spot to 
them was a place to act in ; they might have said 
w ith Shakespeare, " All the world's a stage," for no 
nook or corner was too sacred for their art. The 
countless other things she must have read are not 
recorded, but the active brain was never at rest in 
waking hours. 

About this time she came into possession of what 
was, to her, a kingdom — a room of her very own — 
where she could be alone whenever she liked, and 
dream her dreams, and allow her wild fancies to 
take shape and soar. The little girl was a thing 
of the past ; she was now in her teens and she began 
seriously to plan out her future. She was old for 
her age ; many people thought her queer because she 
did not care for girls' things. But she did care 
about being good and trying to help her mother, 
already so sorely overtaxed. 

The love between the two was very beautiful. 
Mrs. Alcott understood the struggles of her way- 
ward little daughter, sympathizing with the turbu- 
lent spirit within her which made her so restless, so 
eager to be always doing, and the sweet, motherly 
notes, full of encouragement and advice, which 



34 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Louisa often found between the pages of her jour- 
nal, were very comforting. Here is a sample of 
their private correspondence, written before the lit- 
tle room had become a reality : 

" Dearest Mother : 

" I have tried to be more contented, and I think 
I have been more so. I have been thinking about 
my little room, which I suppose I never shall have. 
I should want to be there about all the time, and I 
should go there and sing and think. 

"But I'll be contented 
With what I have got, 
Of folly repented. 

Then sweet is my lot. 
" From your trying daughter, 

" Louisa." 

" My Dear Louisa : 

" Your note gave me so much delight that I can- 
not' close my eyes without first thanking you, dear, 
for making me so happy, and blessing God, who 
gave you this tender love for your mother. 

" I have observed all day your patience with baby, 
your obedience to me, and your kindness to all. 
Go on ' trying,' my child ; God will give you 
strength and courage, and help you fill each day 
with words and deeds of love. I shall lay this on 
your pillow, put a warm kiss on your lips, and say 
a little prayer over you in your sleep. 

" Mother.'' 



A SliMPLE LIFE. 35 

The following poem was written by Louisa at 
the age of eleven, when the poor people at Fruit- 
lands seemed to be very low in their minds : 

Silent and sad 

When all is glad, 
And the earth is dressed in flowers; 

When the gay birds sing 

Till the forests ring, 
As they rest in woodland bowers. 

Oh! why these tears, 

And these idle fears, 
For what may come to-morrow? ..^^ 

The birds find food 

From God so good, 
And the flowers know no sorrow. 

If He clothes these, 

And the leafy trees. 
Will He not cherish thee? 

Why doubt His care — 

It is everywhere, 
Tho' the way we may not see. 

Then why be sad, 

When all is glad, 
And the world is full of flowers? 

With the gay birds sing, 

Make life all spring. 
And smile thro' the darkest hours. 

The seasons came and went, and things got 
worse and w'orse at Fruitlands. One by one the 



36 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

" family " dwindled, until finally Mr. Lane, seeing 
there was nothing more to gain in such a venture, 
decided to leave them and join the Shaker settle- 
ment, of which he had heard. So the poor Alcotts, 
deserted by those who should have fought it out 
with them, were left in the old red farmhouse, with 
neither wood for fire, nor corn for food, the com- 
ing winter staring them in the face, with no money 
and scarcely a friend to whom they could apply for 
help. Mr. Alcott, worn out in mind and body, 
broke down at last, when he found himself alohe 
and deserted. This wild scheme had cut him off 
from his friends; some laughed, some thought him 
crazy, others would not help him until he turned to 
more practical things. And now he lived to know 
how unpractical Fruitlands was, and had been, from 
the beginning. 

We must live as our neighbors live ; we may beau- 
tify that living as much as we please, but custom 
and habit are sure to be right in the main, or the 
majority would not follow where they lead, and he 
who turns aside must either turn an army with him, 
or be laughed at for his trouble. 

This was the case with Mr. Alcott, and had it 
not been for his wife and little girls he would never 
have outlived the disappointment. The brave " big 
woman " and the four dear " little women " 
stretched out loving hands, and pulled him through 
his despair. Mrs. Alcott wrote to her brother in 
Boston, who promptly came to their assistance; 



A SIMPLE LIFE. 37 

and she sold all the furniture she could spare, thus 
getting together a little money. Then she went to 
Still River, the nearest village to Fniitlands, and 
engaged four rooms from their good neighbors, the 
Lovejoys. and on one bleak December day the Al- 
cott family emerged from the snowbank in which 
the old red farmhouse lay hidden. Their worldly 
goods were piled on an ox-sled, the four girls on the 
top, while father and mother trudged arm in arm 
behind, poorer indeed in worldly goods, but richer 
in love and faith and patience, and, alas, experience. 

Fniitlands was Fniitlands no longer ; Mrs. Alcott 
rechristened it Apple Slump. 

The house where the Lovejoys lived was called 
" The Brick Ends," a plain, square house, looking 
from the outside like one of the toy houses of a 
Noah's Ark. The Alcotts occupied one side and 
the Lovejoys the other, and here the little family 
was mercifully housed and befriended during the 
long winter, when they regained their spirits with 
their usual elasticity. As long as they were all to- 
gether nothing really mattered, so great was the 
family tie. 

When spring came, the Still River young peo- 
ple became interested in their new neighbors. 
Gayety began with a May party, with a Queen and 
Maypole, and one of these former children has 
given us an interesting account of Lizzie's birthday 
party on June 24th. It took place in Mrs. Love- 
joy's kitchen, which was dressed with evergreens 



38 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

and made a fitting stage for the evening's entertain- 
ment; her sitting-room was the dress circle. The 
Alcott's sitting-room was ornamented with a small 
tree, from the boughs of which hung gifts, not only 
for the birthday girl, but for each of her guests. 
In Mrs. Alcott's kitchen was spread the feast. How 
good it was to feast after all, if ever so simply! 
There were small cakes, no doubt delicious if Mrs. 
Alcott made them ; there were cherries in profusion, 
and a great birthday cake in the center. There were 
dramatic entertainments throughout the evening. 
Part of an old English play was given by the older 
girls; the Alcotts and the Gardners are particu- 
larly mentioned. There were also songs in costume. 
Anna was a Scotch laddie in bonnet and plaid. But 
Louisa was the star of the evening. Her mother 
had stained her face, arms, and ankles, to make her 
look like an Indian girl, and she was very hand- 
some in the costume so cleverly contrived for her. 
She sang some songs on that occasion that our 
mothers or our grandmothers may remember, for 
it is sixty years since this memorable birthday feast. 
One began: 

Wild roved an Indian girl, sweet Alfarata. 

Another : 

The blackbird was singing 

On Michigan's shore, 

As sweetly and gayly as ever before. 



A SIMPLE LIFE. 39 

She also recited, and did character sketches, and 
was pronounced by everyone to be the Hfe of Liz- 
zie's party. 

There were many other festive occasions at Still 
River, but they were very poor and living was hard, 
so they determined to go back to Concord and be- 
gin again, a hard thing to do, but Mr. Alcott was 
brave. His possessions were few, but there was 
love enough in the family to furnish a palace, and 
indomitable courage to carry them through, so the 
brave pilgrims shouldered their burdens once more 
and pushed on. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE HEART OF A GIRL. 




ITH the return to Concord, life began in 
earnest for Louisa and her sisters. The 
little home was very bare, for the work 
that came to Mr. Alcott was of the most 
trifling kind, and Mrs. Alcott knew that she must 
stifle all feelings of pride if she wished assistance 
from any of their friends. She stopped at no sort of 
work which could help them in their scanty living, 
and once back in the old town among familiar land- 
marks and familiar faces, their old friends came 
around them again and stretched forth kind hands 
to pull them on their feet. These friends were 
among the few who had not entirely forsaken them. 
They had not approved of the Fruitlands experi- 
ment, but even though they had smiled at its od- 
dities, they had loved the simple kindliness of Mr. 
Alcott, and welcomed him warmly when he came 
back among them. 

Foremost among these was Ralph Waldo Emer- 
son, the philosopher and poet, who for many years 
had lived in Concord, and whose home was a meet- 
ing-place for the best thinkers and writers of the 

40 



THE HEART OF A GIRL. 41 

day. Like Mr. Alcott, he was a reformer, but he 
had the wonderful gift of persuasion, convincing 
people by his very simpHcity, and so turning them, 
gently and unconsciously, into new ways. 

This great man represented the best thought of 
his time. He was among the first in New England 
to turn aside into broader paths of learning and re- 
search. He became a leader among such noted men 
as Ellery Channing, Thoreau, Theodore Parker, 
and many others known to fame, and his greatness 
has seemed to live above them all. Certain it is 
that he was loved by his friends, both young and 
old, and to-day his grave is visited by people from 
far and near, who knew and honored him, either 
personally or through his writings. 

From her earliest childhood Louisa had adored 
him. Her first remembrance of him dates back to 
the time when she was eight years old. She was 
sent to inquire for little Waldo, who was desperately 
ill, and Emerson himself opened the door to the 
little girl. Something in his face, so changed and 
worn by sorrow, startled her, and she could hardly 
stammer out her message, " Child — he is dead ! " 
was his answer, as he closed the door gently, and 
Louisa, awed by her first glimpse of a grief too 
deep for words, ran home with the sad tidings to 
her anxious father and mother. 

After they came back from Friiitlands, however, 
she gives us a brighter picture : 

" Later," she writes, " when we went to school 



42 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

with the little Emersons, in their father's barn, I 
remember many times when their illustrious papa 
was our good playfellow. Often piling us into a 
bedecked hay cart, he took us to berry, bathe, or 
picnic at Walden [Henry Thoreau's haunt], mak- 
ing our day charming and memorable by showing 
us the places he loved, the wood people Thoreau 
had introduced to him, or the wild flowers, whose 
hidden homes he had discovered, so that when years 
afterwards we read of * the sweet rhodora in the 
woods ' and the * burly dozing bumblebee,' or 
laughed over * The Mountain and the Squirrel,' we 
recognized old friends and thanked him for the 
delicate truth and beauty which made them im- 
mortal for us and others." 

To the turbulent, restless, half-grown girl, the 
calm philosopher, with his gentle ways and practical 
common-sense, was an anchor indeed. In her 
warm little heart he was held so sacredly that he 
himself would have smiled at such worship. But 
it did Louisa good; it came to her when her eager 
young mind was seeking for higher things, some- 
thing apart from the everyday cares and worries 
of the struggling home. 

She went to him for advice about her reading. 
She used to enter his library, no doubt in the way 
Jo entered Mr. Lawrence's, and ask him what she 
should read. With the blessed audacity of youth, 
she never dreamed that she might be wasting his 
valuable time; but no time, in Emerson's opinion. 



THE HEART OF A GIRL. 43 

was ever wasted in helping young people; and under 
his guidance Louisa began to know the riches of 
Shakespeare. Dante, Goethe, and Carlyle. She was 
at liberty to roam all around his book-lined walls 
and select what pleased her most. If it chanced to 
be too old for her, he would say quietly : " Wait a 
little for that ; meanwhile try this, and if you like it, 
come again," and the girl would go home to read 
and absorb what he had selected for her. 

It was after reading Bettine's correspondence 
with Goethe that Louisa began to place her father's 
friend upon a pedestal, and worship him in true 
romantic fashion, as Bettine worshiped Goethe. 
She fell to writing poetry ; she kept what she called 
her " heart journal," and took to wandering in the 
moonlight when she should have been safe in her 
bed. She wrote letters to him full of wild romance, 
but she never sent them, though she told him about 
them in after years, when he and she could laugh 
together over her girlish fancy. Once, she tells us, 
she sat in a tall cherry-tree at midnight and sang to 
the moon till the owls scared her to bed; she left 
wild flowers on her " Master's " doorstep, and sang 
Mignon's song under his window, in very bad 
German. 

All this sounds absurd, but it was sober earnest 
to the little girl in her teens, and Emerson was the 
safest sort for a girl to love — so gentle, so serene, so 
wise, yet with a simple everyday reasoning power, 
as sound at the core as a winter apple. 



44 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

There was still another teacher whose influence 
was a great force in Louisa's life. This was Henry 
Thoreau, the poet and naturalist. From him the 
Alcott girls learned to know the Nature they already 
loved, and many a happy day was spent with him, 
studying the secrets of the wild flowers and the 
language of the birds. Louisa drank in the delight 
of it all, and everything she wrote in later life shows 
just that loving knowledge of Nature which makes 
all her stories so attractive. 

Thoreau was a genius, as much a part of the Con- 
cord soil as the trees and the flowers which were 
rooted there. He was born in the placid little town, 
and was quite content to live and die there. He be- 
lieved, with Emerson, that traveling was a " fool's 
paradise," and when occasionally he did go off on 
brief excursions, it was only to return far more 
satisfied with Concord and its surroundings. Many 
people have thought that because he built himself a 
hut in Walden forest and often camped there, that 
he lived the life of a hermit, but this was far from 
true. Though he never married, he lived very hap- 
pily in Concord with his mother, two sisters, and a 
brother, whose untimely death was a great sorrow 
to him. 

It was by the river that the children could almost 
always find him, for he loved the banks, so over- 
grown with grasses and slowly wandering through 
the town. He would guide his boat through its 
many windings, he would bathe in its waters, skate 



THE HEART OF A GIRL. 45 

over its frozen surface, or perhaps gather from its 
shores or inlets some rare plant whose secrets he 
wanted to know. He walked, too, long tramps of 
miles and miles, and it is from him, no doubt, that 
Louisa learned to love such active exercise. It 
was twenty miles from Concord to Boston, and 
many a time the sturdy girl trudged the distance, 
often we may suppose in Thoreau's company, and 
then the walk would be delightful, for there was no 
blade of grass, nor flower, nor tree, that was not 
known to the gentle woodsman, and the birds, the 
squirrels, and the insects were his comrades. 

From such a teacher the children of Concord 
learned the poetry of Nature, and loved the poet who 
made the flowers speak, and the trees whisper 
among their tall branches ; who talked with the chip- 
munks and called the birds about him as he sat 
silent on the river bank; who paddled his canoe 
with Indian skill and coaxed the very fishes up to 
the surface to feed out of his hand. 

Concord was just the place ior hearty, simple 
girls like these ; breathing history at every step, 
there was something homelike and delightful in its 
surroundings, and it was always remarkable for the 
number of happy young people who might be seen 
in the winter, skating on the hardened snow through 
the pine woods, and in the summer, bathing or 
boating in the river, the Concord, to which Thoreau 
gave its Indian name, Muskataquid (the Grass- 
grown), and which has found its way into many of 



46 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Miss Alcott's stories. It was the scene of Amy's 
skating disaster in " Little Women," and Laurie 
pitched Camp Lawrence upon its smiling shores, 
while " Aunt Jo " had it comfortably near dear old 
Plumfield for the benefit of " Little Men," and the 
boys and girls of Harmony Village, where " Jack 
and Jill '" lived, must have used this same river on 
the picnic which winds up the story. Harmony Vil- 
lage, of course, being only another name for Con- 
cord. In the Alcotts' day there were masquerades 
on its placid waters; gay barges, full of historic 
characters in costume, glided down stream, and 
sometimes savages in their war-paint darted from 
the lily-fringed banks and attacked the gay mas- 
queraders. On the anniversary of the Battle of 
Lexington, the farmers who began the Revolution 
would sometimes return " to masquerade with their 
fair descendants." 

To Louisa this river brought joy untold ; many a 
long afternoon we can picture her wandering off 
by herself to enjoy the beauty and the silence of it 
all. Full of life, and talkative as she was, there 
was nothing she loved so well as the vast stillness of 
a great solitude, and if there was a mysterious 
whispering among the pines in the forest, why, so 
much the better ; her vivid imagination peopled it at 
once and she was never lonely. 

It was about this time that she came into prom- 
inence as a story-teller. The woods and the na- 
ture studies gave her material, and the " audience " 



THE HEART OF A GIRL. 47 

consisted of little Ellen Emerson, who listened spell- 
bound to the tales of the flowers. These stories, 
each quaint and fanciful, were collected several years 
later and published under the title of " Flower 
Fables." 

There were no special girls' schools in those days; 
there was an unusual number of " barn schools," 
however, and some enterprising young teacher 
would borrow her neighbor's barn, collect the neigh- 
boring children, secure what boxes and benches she 
could for seats and desks, and " establish " her 
school. This was usually in the summer time, and 
Louisa and her sisters attended one or two. When 
they grew older, Anna and Louisa held " barn 
schools " of their own. But there were other and 
more attractive uses for the barns. Wherever they 
chanced to be, whether at Fruitlands or Concord, 
the old barn was the scene of many dramatic tri- 
umphs. Whatever the trials of everyday life, they 
could escape from them into a world of romance in 
the barn; there they could revel in luxury and 
splendor, and Louisa and Anna could act to their 
hearts' content. This was great sport and all the 
Concord young people enjoyed it. 

There were the three Emerson children, Ellen, 
Edith, and Edward ; the three Hawthorne children, 
Una, Julian, and Rose; the Alcott girls and many 
other friends, whose talents, great or small, were 
called upon at need. Louisa at an early age wrote 
the most romantic plays; one of them we have all 



48 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

read in " Little Women," but there are many others 
which have been collected into book form under the 
title of " Comic Tragedies," and are extremely inter- 
esting, if only to show how the girl's mind was 
teeming with its hidden fancies, and these plays 
were produced with wonderful success. The cos- 
tumes were marvelous ; the two older girls and Mrs. 
Alcott were clever in contriving something out of 
nothing. A scrap found its uses; a red scarf, a 
long cloak, a big hat with a plume stolen from 
some departed bonnet, looked positively regal on 
the barn stage; scenery was nothing to these art- 
ists, who made castles, enchanted forests, caves, 
or ladies' bowers on demand. Barns, too, were 
delightful theaters, because of their well-known 
advantages; one could make desperate but safe 
leaps from the beams, and could disappear on 
short notice into the mangers, and there were 
" wings " in unexpected corners that could be 
used with effect. 

Some time before the Fruitlands experiment, 
Mrs. Alcott's father. Colonel May, died, and left her 
a small amount of money which she determined to 
invest in a home. It would at least be a roof over 
their heads while they were struggling for a living. 
Mr. Emerson, on being consulted, advised the pur- 
chase of a house in Concord, and generously came 
to her help with a gift of five hundred dollars. With 
this she bought the place known as Hillside, which 
afterwards became famous as the home of the " Lit- 



THE HEART OF A GIRL. 49 

tie Women," and later as the residence of the Haw- 
thornes. 

Nathaniel Hawthorne was another whose life and 
writings greatly influenced Louisa. The handsome, 
shy man was at his best with children, and his 
stories held the girl spellbound, as they have held 
many other girls and boys as well as men and 
women from that day to this. She pored over his 
books, the more weird and fanciful holding her with 
keener interest, and love and admiration for the 
writer took root in her heart, and grew with her 
growth. 

' But in spite of the delights of Concord, Louisa 
was beginning to feel the weight of the family trou- 
bles. She saw her father struggling day by day, 
earning a little here and there by the work of his 
hands, when his talents as a teacher were running to 
waste. She saw her mother carrying burdens too 
heavy for her, and this hurt her even more. A noble 
purpose took root in that loyal Alcott heart of hers, 
to mend their broken fortunes and to give to this 
dear, devoted mother the comforts which had been 
denied her for so many years. 

She was only a girl, and the way was dark before 
her and full of obstacles. There were so few paths 
open to the girls of her day ; teaching seemed to be 
the only thing, and Mr. Emerson's barn was the 
scene of her first experiment. This did not pay 
very handsomely and could not support a fair-sized, 
healthy family. In summer they could get along 



50 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

somehow, but in winter the struggle was hard in- 
deed, until at last a kind friend, passing through 
Concord, discovered how badly things were going 
and promised to find employment for Mrs. Alcott, 
if she would come to Boston. So once again the 
family changed its home. In 1848, they were set- 
tled in Boston, where Mrs. Alcott became a visitor 
to the poor, in the employ of a few benevolent soci- 
eties, and also kept an intelligence office. This was 
a valuable experience for both mother and daugh- 
ters. 

Mr. Alcott, whose flow of language was always 
wonderful, began to hold conversations on his fa- 
vorite subjects, and drew about him a small circle 
of thoughtful people. This was congenial work for 
him, though very small pay, but his employment 
made them all happy, and the Alcotts were notably 
a family who gave more than they received. His 
talks, when they turned on the ancient poets and 
philosophers, were most interesting and instructive, 
especially to young people, over whom he had great 
influence, but Mrs. Cheney, who has so carefully 
edited Miss Alcott's " Life, Letters and Journals," 
tells us " his peculiar theories of temperament and 
diet never failed to call out discussion and opposi- 
tion." 

" One of my earliest recollections of Louisa," she 
writes, " is on one of these occasions when he was 
emphasizing his doctrine that a vegetable diet would 
produce unrufiled sweetness of temper and disposi- 



THE HEART OF A GIRL. 51 

tion. I heard a voice behind me saying- to her 
neighbor : ' I don't know about that. I've never 
eaten any meat, and I'm awful cross and irritable 
very often.' " 

The Alcotts stood little chance of growing rich or 
even reasonably comfortable ; they were generous in 
the fullest sense of the word, often depriving them- 
selves to give help and comfort to others. The well- 
known story of carrying their breakfast to a starv- 
ing family is so sweetly described in the second 
chapter of " Little Women," that it is better read 
there. Another time they lent their dinner to a 
neighbor who at short notice had to entertain dis- 
tinguished guests. 

" Another time," writes Miss Alcott, " one snowy 
Saturday night, when our wood was very low, a 
poor child came to beg a little, as the baby was sick v 
and the father on a spree, with all his wages. My 
mother hesitated at first, as we also had a baby; 
very cold weather was upon us, and a Sunday to be 
got through before more wood could be had. My 
father said : ' Give half our stock and trust in Provi- 
dence ; the weather will moderate or wood will 
come.' Mother laughed, and answered in her cheery 
way : ' Well, their need is greater than ours, and if 
our half gives out we can go to bed and tell stories.' 
So a generous half went to the poor neighbor, and 
a little later in the evening, while the storm still 
raged and we were about to cover our fire to keep it, 
a knock came, and a farmer who usually supplied 



./<--'' 



52 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

US appeared, saying anxiously : ' I started for Bos- 
ton with a load of wood, but it drifts so, I want to 
go home. Wouldn't you like to have me drop the 
wood here ; it would accommodate me and you need 
not hurry about paying for it.' ' Yes,' said Father, 
and as the man went off he turned to Mother with 
a look that much impressed us children with his 
gifts as a seer : ' Didn't I tell you wood would come 
if the weather did not moderate?' Mother's mot- 
to was * Hope and keep busy,' and one of her say- 
ings, * Cast your bread upon the waters, and after 
many days it will come back buttered.' " 

There is another tale of a tramp who boldly asked 
Mr. Alcott for a loan of five dollars. Mr. Alcott 
searched in his pockets, but a ten dollar bill was all 
he could find. " I haven't what you want," he said 
in his gentle way, " but take this and pay me when 
you can." With a grin the man went off, and Mr. 
Alcott was laughed at by his friends, who discov- 
ered that the tramp was a man of bad character and 
they felt he would never return. They were mis- 
taken, however; something in this open-handed 
generosity must have touched the hardened sinner, 
for he returned the amount in a short time, much 
to the surprise of everyone, and Mr. Alcott's satis- 
faction. 

Thus, giving much, receiving little, finding it 
hard to make ends meet, but happy in one another, 
despite the short lengths, the Alcott children grew 
in strength and sweetness. They had learned many 



THE HEART OF A GIRL. 53 

serious lessons on their short Hfe journey, but the 
seeds of patience and endurance had been planted 
in their loyal young hearts, and already Louisa's 
hopes and ambitions were eager to try their wings 
outside of the family nest. 



CHAPTER IV. 



SEEKING A VOCATION. 




HE four little women paused now in their 
pilgrimage to take breath and look about 
them. Two of them were now ready to 
begin work, the other two were old 
enough to fill their places in the home life and " help 
mother " as Anna and Louisa had done; and here 
it is well for us to pause and look at these girls, 
about to take their first flight in the world. During 
their life in Boston things were a little easier; a 
small though regular income came to them through 
Mrs. Alcott's work, and they were surrounded by 
friends and relatives who were kind in many ways, 
but the two older girls felt the need of adding their 
small share to the family support. 

They missed the delights of Concord; Boston 
was a good place to work in — not to think in. 
Among the hills and woods of their beloved little 
town it was different, but in Boston " the bustle and 
dirt and change send all lovely images and restful 
feelings away," Louisa wrote in her journal when 
she was seventeen, adding farther on, " I see now 
what Nature did for me, and my * romantic tastes,' 

54 



SEEKING A VOCATION. 55 

as people called that love of solitude, and out-of- 
door life, taught me much." 

Upon Anna the changes pressed lightly. Of a 
calm, sweet, serious nature like her father, she took 
things as they came, unquestioningly, uncomplain- 
ingly, content if they were all together, unhappy at 
the separations that interrupted their home life. 
She was never worried about herself or her short- 
comings, as Louisa was; she suited her daily needs 
to others, and expanded in the moral sunshine 
which the Alcott family managed always to have 
about them. No matter w'hat their circumstances, 
they had high purposes in life, and though Mrs. Al- 
cott might occasionally yield to a quick temper, and 
Mr. Alcott to hours of depression, and the girls' 
moods might vent themselves in harmless bickering, 
the real harmony of their daily life was sound and 
undisturbed. 

Mrs. Alcott had three simple rules for the guid- 
ance of her girls : " Rule yourself. Love your 
neighbor. Do the duty which lies nearest to you." 

Anna found them easy to follow; her disposition 
reminded one of the fair, placid river beside which 
they dwelt for so many years : clear, limpid, deep in 
many places, glancing in the sunshine, full of rip- 
ples when a storm passed over it. Usually smiling 
and smooth of surface, there were swift undercur- 
rents and strong emotions behind the serenity. 

Quite different was Louisa ; the undercurrent was 
very strong, and the turbulent, restless young soul 



56 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Struggled against it. Her hardest lesson was to 
rule herself. From her earliest childhood she had 
encountered this difficulty, and all through her early 
life her impatient spirit waged constant warfare 
against the poverty which seemed so hard to con- 
quer. When her mind ran to poetry, as it often 
did at this period, the result showed itself in rhyth- 
mical sermons on cheerfulness, patience, or faith. 
Here is one which the readers of " Little Women " 
no doubt remember ; full of faults, it is yet vigorous, 
atune to the motion of the strong young arms, up 
and down the washboard ; it is called : 

A Song from the Suds. 

Queen of my tub, I merrily sing. 

While the white foam rises high. 
And stxirdily wash and rinse and wring, 

And fasten the clothes to dry; 
Then out in the free fresh air they swing, 

Under the sunny sky. 
I wish we could wash from our hearts and souls 

The stains of the week away, 
And let water and air by their magic make 

Ourselves as pure as they ; 
Then on the earth there would be indeed 

A glorious washing-day ! 
Along the path of a useful life 

Will heartsease ever bloom? 
The busy mind has no time to think 

Of sorrow, or care, or gloom ; 
And anxious thoughts may be swept away 

As we busily wield a broom. 



SEEKING A VOCATION. 57 

I am glad a task to me is given, 

To labor at day by day ; 
For it brings me health, and strength, and hope, 

And I cheerfully learn to say, 
"Head, you may think; Heart, you may feel; 

But Hand, you shall work alway." 

Head and heart and hand, they were engines of 
energy to this impetuous young person; the head 
and the heart would have galloped away with her, 
had not a wise mother's foresight trained the hands 
to the needs of every day. Louisa at seventeen 
could wash and iron, cook and scrub, sweep and 
dust, darn and mend, " turn " and sew. There was 
plenty of " turning " to do, no doubt, for a really 
new dress was a rare occurrence among the Alcott 
girls. Kind relatives and friends were constantly 
supplying them with good things which their clever 
fingers fashioned into very respectable additions to 
their wardrobes, and that interesting chapter in " An 
Old-Fashioned Girl," where Polly presides at the 
making over of Fan's last year's gowns, is doubly 
interesting because so thoroughly true to life. Pol- 
ly tells the story of a little checked silk which was 
sent to her mother in a lot of other discarded finery ; 
this was carefully washed to look as good as new, 
and after much fussing and planning, a complete 
gown was cut out, coming short only by half of 
one sleeve; the family was in despair, but at last, 
by clever matching and patching, the remaining 
scraps, ten in all, were neatly put together into 



58 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

the under half of the sleeve, and no one was the 
wiser. 

They must have had funny bundles sent to them 
by friends who had not learned the art of giving 
wisely, and had it not been that the calls of the 
drama claimed the finery that fell to their portion, 
the " shabby silk bonnets and dirty flounced gowns " 
would have gone the way of all such rubbish. The 
following nonsense verse must have relieved Lou- 
isa's mind on one of these occasions : 

To poor country folks, 

Who haven't any clothes, 
Rich folks to relieve them, 

Send old lace gowns and satin bows. 

Their uncle, the Rev. Samuel J. May, lived in 
Boston and was very kind to his sister's family. 
The girls loved him, for he resembled their mother 
in many ways. He was a brave, simple, single- 
hearted gentleman, whose word was a power among 
the best people in the city, and he was courageous 
enough to preach antislavery from his pulpit at a 
time when the mere whisper of such a thing was 
considered treason. It is little wonder that Louisa 
and her sisters, brought up under the shadow of the 
coming struggle, should become sturdy abolition- 
ists in those Boston days. The men and women 
with whom they were thrown, whom they were 
taught to revere and to follow as guides, were 
stanch advocates of freedom for the slave. _ 



SEEKING A VOCATION. 59 

There was Mr, Alcott himself, who read Socrates 
and Plato and preached the philosophy of free- 
dom ; and Emerson, who broke the fetters of the 
thinking world and preached practical freedom for 
everyone of high or low degree; and Thoreau, the 
woodsman, whose love of freedom drove him to the 
forests and the streams, preached of it in his elo- 
quent way when thoughtful people met to protest 
against the growing evil of the times ; and Theodore 
Parker, the famous Unitarian minister, whose 
grandfather. Captain John Parker, commanded the 
handful of men who faced the British regulars on 
Lexington Green when they were ordered to lay 
down their arms and disperse. 

Theodore Parker exerted a great influence on 
Louisa ; his cheerful religion preached to her better 
than a dozen sermons. He always drew around 
him young men and women who needed the sort of 
help which he could give, and he gave it freely. 
There was Lydia Maria Child, one of the best- 
known writers of her day, a woman of powerful 
mind, who gave herself heart and soul to the cause. 
There were Ellery Channing, William Garrison, and 
Wendell Phillips, who not only came into the lives 
of the young Alcotts and visited in their home, but 
kindled their eager minds by their eloquence in pub- 
lic speaking. 

Of the two younger Alcott girls there is little to 
say at this period, Beth or Betty or Lizzie or Bess, 
as she was variously called by the different mem- 



6o LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

bers of her family, at fourteen, was a sweet retir- 
ing girl, very much as Miss Alcott describes her in 
" Little Women." 

" There are many Beths in the world, shy and 
quiet, sitting in corners till needed, and living for 
others so cheerfully that no one sees the sacrifices 
till the little cricket on the hearth stops chirping, 
and the sweet sunshiny presence vanishes, leaving 
silence and shadow behind." This is the tribute Miss 
Alcott paid this dear sister in the early pages of 
" Little Women," ten years after her death. She 
was not only fond of music, but she showed great 
talent for the piano, and many said had she lived, her 
gift would have soared above the gifts of her sisters. 

May's artistic efforts began at babyhood; every- 
thing that came within her reach from the time she 
was old enough to hold a pencil was either sketched 
or copied. She was decided in her tastes and good 
to look upon, a golden-haired child with blue eyes, 
the marring feature being a rather flat nose, which 
caused her much sorrow, and we can fancy the many 
painful attempts she made to squeeze it into proper 
shape with the help of a clothespin. 

The first two summers of their stay in Boston 
were spent in their uncle's roomy house, with many 
comforts about them, which they enjoyed, and yet 
it is here that Louisa had some moments of mourn- 
ful reflection. " Seventeen years have I lived," she 
writes in her journal, " and yet so little do I know, 
and so much remains to be done before I begin to be 



SEEKING A VOCATION. 6l 

v/hat I desire — a truly good and useful woman. In 
looking over our journals, father says, * Anna's is 
about other people ; Louisa's about herself ! ' That is 
true, for I don't talk about myself ; yet must always 
think of the wilful, moody girl I try to manage, and 
in my journal I write of her to see how she gets on. 
Anna is so good, she need not take care of herself, 
and can enjoy other people." 

Louisa was evidently aware of her good looks, for 
she says, " If I look in my glass, I try to keep down 
vanity about my long hair, my well-shaped head, 
and my good nose." 

But these were not her only beauties; she was 
tall and graceful as a deer, the hair she speaks of ~m 
was a beautiful glossy chestnut mane, her complex- 
ion was clear and full of color, and her blue eyes 
were deep-set and most expressive. " My quick 
tongue is always getting me into trouble," she goes 
on, " and my moodiness makes it hard to be cheer- 
ful, when I think how poor we are, how much worry 
it is to live, and how many things I long to do — 
I never can. So every day is a battle, and I'm so 
tired I don't want to live, only it's cowardly to die 
till you have done something." How many a girl 
with life and health and energy has felt this strange 
depression with much less reason behind it, for poor 
Louisa was passing through a hard experience at 
this time. 

In a mad fit of charity, the Alcotts opened their 
gates to some poor immigrants who camped in their 



62 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

garden for a day. There was smallpox raging 
among them, and the whole Alcott family caught 
the disease. They had a sorry time of it, especially 
as they had no doctor, and while the girls took it 
lightly, Mr. and Mrs. Alcott were very ill; every- 
body kept away from them and it was no wonder 
that poor Louisa felt low in her mind. 

Anna went away for a change after her illness, 
leaving a school of twenty in Louisa's charge, a 
great responsibility for a girl of seventeen, but it 
was a fine experience, and though as usual she 
missed Anna and shed many tears over her ab- 
sence, she managed to work her way straight into 
the hearts of her children; she told them fascinat- 
ing stories, which made the lessons pleasanter and 
showed at the same time her wonderful power of 
interesting them. Indeed, she succeeded so well 
with her pupils that she began to think that teach- 
ing would be her chosen work; but in this she was 
mistaken; she was to have many experiences be- 
fore she found her niche. 

Though encouraged about her school, she found 
it hard work even when Anna came back to help 
her, " I get very little time to write or think," she 
says in her journal, " for my working days have 
begun and when school is over Anna wants me, so 
I have no quiet. A little solitude is good for me. 
In the quiet I see my faults and try to mend them, 
but deary me, I don't get on at all ! " 

A year later her ambition pointed in another 



SEEKING A VOCATION. 63 

direction. Always interested in dramatic things, 
she launched out into the writing of most wonder- 
ful plays, in which Anna gave much assistance. Of 
course they were all written in the loftiest, most 
high-flown language, with stilted sentiments, tales 
of chivalry, of impossible adventures, all dealing 
with lords and ladies, fairies and spirits of good 
and evil ; no commonplace hero or heroine blots the 
pages, the triumph of virtue over vice is the in- 
variable climax. These plays, many of which have 
been preserved, are all extremely girlish, just what 
one would imagine from the pen of a girl of sev- 
enteen, full of a girl's dreams and fancies, glowing 
with romance, quite apart from the everyday life 
about her. Full of trap-doors and secret, haunted 
chambers were her castles, deep and dark and 
moldy were her dungeons; the dismal clank of 
chains announced her captives, her ladies were 
ethereal in their loveliness, her knights were alw^.s 
superb specimens of manhood, her villains das- 
tardly to the heart's core. There were mysteries 
and concealments and absurd situations, but the 
dialogue was clever and the story was put together 
in a way to delight a youthful audience, for they 
were constantly acting dramas in which Louisa and 
Anna took the principal parts. In the acting they 
were ably assisted by some intimate friends who 
had remarkable talent, and as Mrs. Alcott encour- 
aged the private theatricals, they made a success in 
their small way. This inspired the Alcott girls 



64 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

to higher ambitions — they were wild to go on the 
stage. 

" Anna wants to be an actress, and so do I," 
writes Louisa. " We could make plenty of money 
perhaps, and it is a very gay life. Mother says we 
are too young and must wait." 

A sagacious lady was Mrs. Alcott, who knew her 
young daughters better than they knew themselves. 
Louisa liked tragic plays and determined to be as 
great as Mrs. Siddons ; there was no halfway about 
Louisa, and she was really talented. One of her 
relatives, Dr. Windship of Roxbury, took a great 
interest in her dramatic work and offered one of her 
plays, " The Rival Prima Donnas," to Mr. Barry of 
the Boston Theater. He liked it very much and de- 
termined to put it on the stage, Mrs. Barry and 
Mrs. Wood consenting to take the principal char- 
acters. There was some hitch in the arrangements 
and it was never produced in public, but after this 
Louisa had a free pass to the theater, which she 
enjoyed immensely. 

Great as was her desire to go on the stage, she 
was sensible enough to listen to her mother's wise 
counsel and keep from the dangers and temptations 
of such a life. Clever as she was, she had yet to 
learn that cleverness alone does not make a great 
actress, and she was not a girl to be satisfied with 
any but the first rank. 

Miss Alcott herself, in her novel, " Work," which 
is based chiefly on her own experiences, says of 



SEEKING A VOCATION. 65 

Christie Dez>on, the heroine: "She liad no talent 
except that which may be developed in any girl 
possessing the lively fancy, sympathetic nature, and 
ambitious spirit which make some girls naturally 
dramatic. This was to be only one of many ex- 
periences which were to show her her own weak- 
ness and strength, and through effort, pain, and dis- 
appointment, to fit her to play a nobler part on a 
wider stage." 

This was written long after Louisa's passion for 
the stage had died a natural death. She acted many 
times privately, and often publicly for charity, and 
always with a certain charm and delicacy. She 
gave parts of Dickens extremely well, and read 
Shakespeare pleasingly. She was in her element 
with character sketches and imitations, but the 
divine fire she certainly had not, else she never 
would have given up her dreams, nor would her 
mother have counseled her to do so. 

Mrs. Alcott was ever eager for her children's 
advancement, and if on their life journey they could 
see a short cut to prosperity, hers was the hand to 
send them on their way; all their youthful schemes 
and plans received encouragement, and though 
many of their Puritan friends might have viewed 
the stage with disfavor, Mrs. Alcott had no such 
prejudice. Indeed, her own work in a broad field 
among the poor gave her foresight and wisdom 
above the average woman of her time. 

The keeping of an intelligence office in those days 



66 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

did not mean what it does now; the best ladies in 
the land were employed in this work, and the poor 
women who applied for employment were in many 
instances quite as good. Honest labor was never 
degrading to these proud Alcotts, and the secret of 
Louisa's later success was that in those early years 
she hesitated at nothing which could aid in the sup- 
port of the family. 

They were living at this time in a small house on 
High Street. Anna and Louisa taught, Lizzie kept 
house, May went to school, and Mr. Alcott wrote 
and talked when he could get classes or " conversa- 
tions." His influence was great, especially among 
young people, but somehow while they were willing 
to listen to words of wisdom, they were not always 
so willing to pay for them. The Alcott home, poor 
though it was, was full of love, and a shelter for 
the homeless and loveless who knocked at their 
doors, for these great-hearted people had an endless 
supply of sympathy for all in need. 

In 1852, her first story came out, for which she 
received the sum of five dollars. It was written in 
Concord when she was sixteen, and in her own opin- 
ion it was great trash; she read it to her sisters, 
who praised it, not knowing the author; and when 
she proudly announced the name, there was true 
rejoicing. 

They were constantly having little jubilees ; some- 
thing was always " turning up," and the disappoint- 
ments were seldom spoken of. Occasionally a 



SEEKING A VOCATION. 67 

moan was made when experience proved too hard a 
teacher, and one of these experiences Louisa put 
into a story called " How I went out to Service." 

A gentleman came to Mrs. Alcott's intelligence 
office in search of a companion for his father and 
sister. Only light work was to be required of her, 
and as Mrs. Alcott could think of no one to fill 
the position, Louisa suggested herself, and went off 
happily to her new work, secure in the belief that 
she would receive all kindness and respect; but her 
two months' trial changed her opinion, and she 
began to understand, from the unkindness with 
which she, a girl of high spirit and intelligence, was 
treated, why it was that many preferred working' in 
factories or shops rather than be subjected to what 
she suffered. 

Another experience, not quite so painful, was yet 
pathetic enough in a whimsical way. In January, 
1853, Mr. Alcott started for the West to try his 
luck with lecturing; he went off full of hope, leav- 
ing Mrs. Alcott with several boarders, Anna teach- 
ing at Syracuse, and Louisa with a home school of 
ten pupils. This was his opportunity, and the whole 
family eagerly awaited the result. The girls built 
many castles ; at last "Father" would be appreciated, 
and after the manner of young, hopeful spirits, they 
actually began to bank on the lecture money. In 
February he returned, arriving late at night, and 
rousing the family by a sudden peal of the bell. 
Up they all rose from their beds, five capped and 



68 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

nightgowned figures. Mrs. Alcott led the way and 
ecstatically crying, " My husband ! " flung herself 
into the arms of the returned wanderer, while the 
four girls embraced whatever portion of the be- 
loved form they could get hold of. Then he was 
borne off and fed and warmed and cuddled, before 
a word was said about the success of the lecture 
tour. He talked a good deal, but only about the 
pleasant things, until asked suddenly : 

" Well, what did they pay you ? " 

With a pathetic smile he opened his pocketbook 
and took out one dollar. 

" Only that," he answered. " My overcoat was 
stolen and I had to buy a shawl. Many promises 
were not kept and traveling is costly, but," he 
added, with a serenity which neither time nor mis- 
fortune could shatter^ " I have opened the way and 
another year shall do better." 

" I shall never forget," writes Louisa, " how 
beautifully Mother answered him, though the dear, 
hopeful soul had built so much on his success; but 
with a beaming face she kissed him, saying : ' I call 
that doing very well; since you are safely home, 
dear, we won't ask anything more.' Anna and I 
choked down our tears and took a little lesson in 
real love, which we never forgot, nor the look that 
the tired man and tender woman gave one another. 
It was half tragic and comic, for Father was very 
dirty and sleepy and Mother in a big nightcap and 
funny old jacket." 



SEEKING A VOCATION. 69 

And so with " ups and downs," plenty of frolick- 
ing, an overflow of hard times, a glimpse of men 
and women that even the beloved haunts of Concord 
could never have given her, Louisa passed those 
seven years of her life that saw the girl grow into 
a capable young woman, sturdy of hand and heart, 
ready to do and dare for those she loved, full of the 
dreams and ambitions of hopeful youth. A typi- 
cal American maiden of those ante-bellum days, 
with the strong New England spirit of intolerance 
for slavery, a desire to do right in the face of all 
obstacles, a determination to win from life, by her 
own effort, the fortune which could not come to her 
in any other way. 



CHAPTER V. 

AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 




HE proudest moment of Louisa's life 
was the day which saw the pubHcation 
of " Flower Fables." The book breathed 
of the woods and the wild things that 
grew there, for she had learned the flower secrets 
from her old friend Thoreau, and these she told 
to the little Emersons and Channings, as they 
sat in the Concord woods, with the asters and the 
golden-rod nodding to them like friendly comrades. 
One may imagine the scene — the cool, green 
woodland stretch, the giant trees with the sunshine 
filtering through, making gold ripples in the chest- 
nut hair of the tall girl, surrounded by her smaller 
companions. At first it was only Ellen Emerson, 
but as the tales grew in interest, and wood-sprites, 
water-sprites and fairy queens danced in the sylvan 
glade, her audience increased and listened breath- 
lessly to the stories which preached of love and joy 
and youth and happiness, in the language of the 
flowers and birds. 

The true poetry of the girl's nature came to the 
surface in these woodland hours. One story, *' The 

70 



AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 7 1 

Fairy Spring," must have been about her sister 
May, for the Httle heroine is described as " a pretty 
child, with hair like sunshine, eyes blue as the sky, 
cheeks like the wild roses nodding to her on either 
side of the way, and a voice as sweet as the babbling 
brook she loved to sing with. May was never hap- 
pier than when alone in the woods, and every morn- 
ing with her cup and a little roll of bread in her 
basket, she wandered away to some of her favorite 
nooks to feast on berries, play with the flowers, talk 
to the birds, and make friends with all the harm- 
less wood creatures, who soon knew and welcomed 
her." 

There in the woods she listened to the brook and 
for the first time understood what it sang as it 
flowed along. 

I am calling, I am calling, 

As I ripple, run and sing. 
Come up higher, come up higher, 

Come and find the fairy spring. 
Who will listen, who will listen 

To the wonders I can tell 
Of a palace built of sunshine, 

Where the sweetest spirits dwell? 
Singing winds and magic waters. 

Golden shadows, silver rain. 
Spells that make the sad heart happy, 

Sleep that cures the deepest pain. 
Cheeks that bloom like summer roses, 

Smiling lips and hours that shine, 



72 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Come to those who climb the mountain, 
Find and taste the fairy wine. 

I am calling, I am calling, 
As I ripple, run and sing ; 

Who will listen, who will listen. 
To the story of the Spring? 



Who could resist the rhythm of these simple 
lines? Surely not the Concord children for whom 
the woods awoke in those happy days. Small won- 
der, then, that Louisa loved the book which breathed 
of the trees and the flowers, and sent her back to 
the pleasant memories of her childhood. 

" Flower Fables " was her Christmas gift to her 
mother ; she sent it with the following note : 

" December 25, 1854. 
" Dear Mother : 

" Into your Christmas stocking I have put my 
' first-born,' knowing that you will accept it with 
all its faults (for grandmothers are always kind), 
and look upon it merely as an earnest of what I may 
yet do ; for with so much to cheer me on, I hope to 
pass in time from fairies and fables to men and 
realities. Whatever beauty or poetry is to be found 
in my little book is owing to your interest in, and 
encouragement of, all my efforts from, the first to 
the last, and if ever I do anything to tie proud of, 
my greatest happiness will be that I can thank you 
for that, as I may do for all the good there is in 



AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 73 

me, and I shall be content to write if it gives you 
pleasure. 

"Jo is fussing about, 

My lamp is going out. 

" To dear mother, with many kind wishes for a 
Happy New Year and Merry Christmas. 

" I am ever your loving daughter, 

" LOUY." 

Every blade of grass, every woodland flower, 
the trees, the ferns, the very stones, assumed per- 
sonalities. No one who could so people her every- 
day world with fairies could fail to believe in them, 
and the charm about Louisa's " Flower Fables " 
is that one can see childlike belief creeping out in 
every story. Here is the song of the Fairy Star, 
who made the Rose bloom in spite of the grim old 
Frost King: 

Sleep, little seed, 

Deep in your bed, 
While winter snow 

Lies overhead. 
Wake, little sprout. 

And drink the rain. 
Till sunshine calls 

You to rise again. 
Strike deep, young root. 

In the earth below, 
Unfold pale leaves. 
Begin to grow. 



74 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Baby Bud, dance 
In the warm sun ; 

Bloom, sweet rose, 
Life has begun. 



Here she has told the story of the birth of the 
flowers as Emerson would have told it, with a 
swinging measure of words, if not in perfect 
rhythm. Perhaps the tale of Queen Aster is best 
known. 

It seems that in the meadow the government was 
very much upset. The Goldenrods had ruled for 
a great many years and had become very proud and 
haughty. Now the roadside Asters were equally 
proud, and of higher descent, as they came from 
the stars and were a much larger tribe than the 
Goldenrods, so there was a revolution in the 
meadow. 

" In the middle of this meadow stood a beau- 
tiful maple, and at its foot lay a large rock over- 
grown by a wild grapevine. All kinds of flowers 
sprung up here, and this autumn a tall spray of 
goldenrod and a lovely violet aster grew almost 
side by side, with only a screen of ferns between 
them. This was called the palace, and seeing their 
cousin there made the asters feel that their turn had 
come, and many of the other flowers agreed with 
them that a change of rulers ought to be made for 
the good of the kingdom. 

" After much excitement, Violet Aster was 



AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 75 

chosen Queen and made such a wise and gentle 
ruled that even the defeated Prince Goldenrod 
looked on in admiration, which soon changed to 
love. He sang love songs to her under the stars, 
and as she leaned toward him to listen, he saw the 
love-light in her eyes and began his wooing. 

" At his ardent words the screen fell away from 
between them, the leaves that hid Violet's golden 
heart opened wide and let him see how glad she 
was as she bent her stately head and answered, 
softly : 

" ' There is room upon the throne for two ; share 
it with me as King, and let us rule together; for it 
is lonely without love, and each needs the other.' 
. . . The maple showered the rosy leaves over 
them, and the old Rock waved his crown of vine 
leaves as he said: 

"'This is as it should be; love and strength 
going hand in hand, and justice making the earth 
glad/ " 

When we reflect that into these love stories of the 
flowers Louisa poured all the romance in her girl- 
ish heart, we wonder why love never played a 
bigger part in her own life. Her capacity for 
loving was very large, perhaps too large to tie it- 
self to the all-absorbing love of marriage. She was 
so attractive that no doubt she had many offers, 
though only one is recorded. She was absorbed 
in the love of her home, the love of her country, the 
love of her work — three great passions which filled 



s 



76 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

her life and made her proud to show the world that 
marriage, beautiful as it is, is not the only goal in 
the life of a busy, happy girl. No doubt, being a 
true woman, had a great love come to her, she 
would have obeyed its call, but it never did, and so 
through the " Flower Fables " and through every 
book which has appealed to her thousands of 
readers, young and old, she has scattered her little 
romances with the deft hand of one who knows and 
feels. She often laughingly said in later days that 
circumstances had made of her a sort of universal 
relative — wife, mother, husband, brother, sister, son 
and daughter all in one. 

The publication of " Flower Fables " was paid 
for by a friend — Miss Wealthy Stevens. The edi- 
tion of sixteen hundred sold very well, though 
Louisa realized only thirty-two dollars on the 
whole. 

" A pleasing contrast," she adds many years after, 
*' to the receipts of six months only in 1886, being 
eight thousand dollars for the sale of books and no 
new one ; but I was prouder over the thirty-two dol- 
lars than the eight thousand." Prouder, perhaps — 
but not quite so comfortable. 

If the publication of " Flower Fables " did noth- 
ing more, at least it pointed out the way; it turned 
Louisa's heart and mind toward the goal that her 
eyes could not as yet see clearly. There was so 
much to do, so many doubts to drive away, so many 
daily needs to satisfy, that she was often compelled 



AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 77 

to turn aside from the path that was most alluring'. 
Teaching and sewing she regarded as stand-bys, 
and often when her active brain was " simmering," 
as she called it, she was tied to the one or the other. 
In those days of no sewing machines, Louisa had 
ample time while running up a seam or doing end- 
less hemming to think out the many tales which 
afterwards delighted the world, and from this time 
on, the demand for her stories increased, and the 
fact that she could in that way bring in the much- 
needed money for the family support, spurred her 
to do her best. 

About this time the desire for solitude was 
strong upon her, so she took to writing in the gar- 
ret, which W'as the scene of much meditation and 
innocent pleasure. Here she loved to bring her 
favorite book and a pile of apples to enjoy w4iile she 
read. When stories and plots absorbed her mind 
there was nothing more delightful than to mount 
up away from the world, and with her papers scat- 
tered all about her and pens and ink at her com- 
mand, fall to work on the stories which were be- 
coming more popular every day. The garret 
must have been the famous retreat in " Little 
Women," whither Jo retired to read and cry 
over the " Heir of Redcliffe," when Meg told 
her about the invitation to the Gardiner's party, 
a retreat which was shared by a pet rat of literary 
tastes. 

Later on, when the fever for short stories and 



78 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

small checks seized her, Jo made herself a scribbling 
costume with a mob cap, no doubt a reproduction of 
Louisa's own. 

" Every few weeks she would shut herself up in 
her room, put on her scribbling suit and ' fall into 
a vortex,' as she expressed it." 

Louisa decided not to " waste even ink on poems 
and fancies," so the stories grew in number, and 
with the greater demand came a better price. At 
one time, with forty dollars which she had earned, 
she fitted out the whole family, her own wardrobe 
being made up of articles from the cousins and 
friends. 

Mr. Alcott was most anxious to go to England 
again, this time on a lecture tour, but his family 
opposed such a venture. However, he went to Con- 
cord to consult with Mr. Emerson, and as there is 
no further mention made of the project, it is evi- 
dent that the wise philosopher dissuaded him. But 
the whole family grew weary of Boston, they felt 
stifled in the small city houses and the city atmos- 
phere. As the summer of 1855 approached, a pe- 
culiar restlessness took possession of them; it 
seemed impossible to make any definite plans. 

" We shall probably stay here," writes Louisa, 
" and Anna and I go into the country as govern- 
esses. It's a queer way to live, but dramatic, and I 
rather like it; for we never know what is to come 
next." Later she adds : " Cousin L. W. asks me 
to pass the summer at Walpole with her. If I can 



AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 79 

get no teaching I shall go, for I long for the hills 
and can write my fairy tales there." 

These were to go into another Christmas book 
she was planning ; she called it " Christmas Elves," 
and her sister May illustrated it. Louisa consid- 
ered it much better than " Flower Fables." 

She wrote a burlesque lecture on " Woman and 
her Position; by Oronthy Bluggage," and delivered 
it one evening at the house of a friend. It was 
brimming over with fun and Louisa was in her ele- 
ment, for she carried her audience with her and they 
had a lively time of it. She was asked to give it 
again for money; indeed, there was always some 
financial possibility looming up for this clever and 
original young woman. She was very modest 
about herself and her achievements, though she 
never underrated her powers. When her book ap- 
peared, she said in her journal : 

" My book came out, and people began to think 
that topsey-turvey Louisa would amount to some- 
thing after all, since she could do so well as house- 
maid, teacher, seamstress, and story-teller. Per- 
haps she may." 

She went to Walpole, New Hampshire, in June. 
It was a lovely spot high up among the hills, and 
the wild freedom of the place delighted her. She 
ran and skipped like a child in the open, she loved 
to burrow in the woods and wander through the 
splendid ravines. She helped her cousin work in 
the garden, and the touch of the fresh earth and 



8o LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

the green leaves gave her much pleasure. Early 
rising came naturally to her in this keen country air. 

" Up at five," she writes, " and had a lovely run 
in the ravine, seeing the woods wake. Planned a 
little tale which ought to be fresh and true, as it 
came at that hour and place — ' King Goldenrod.' 
Have lively days — writing in a.m., driving in p.m., 
and fun in eve. My visit is doing me much good." 

No one was more dependent on good wholesome 
fun than Louisa, herself often the center of it all. 
She was always in demand among her relatives and 
friends, and was a never-failing source of entertain- 
ment wherever she went. 

She was so delighted with Walpole that her fam- 
ily caught her enthusiasm, and decided for the pres- 
ent, to come and live there; it never took the Alcotts 
long to plan and decide things ; they were not cum- 
bered with an overload of the world's goods, and 
could move from place to place with very little 
trouble or expense. In this instance, they were 
lucky enough to secure the house of a friend, rent 
free, and were glad of the rest from strenuous work. 
Mr. Alcott had his garden, and the younger girls all 
the light and air and freedom that they missed so 
sadly in the city. Anna and Louisa were in their 
element. 

" Busy and happy times," Louisa tells us ; " plays, 
picnics, pleasant people and good neighbors. Fanny 
Kemble came up, Mrs. Kirtland and others, and Dr. 
Bellows is the gayest of the gay. We acted the 



AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 8l 

'Jacobite,' * Rivals.' and ' Bonnycastles/ to an audi- 
ence of a hundred and were noticed in the Boston 
papers. . . . Anna was the star, her acting be- 
ing really very fine. I did Mrs. Malaprop, Widow 
Pottle, and the old ladies." 

But the summer passed all too quickly. Louisa's 
fairy stories were ready in September. This she 
modestly believed would give her ample time to 
present them for Christmas publication. In the 
meanwhile Anna received an ofifer from Dr. Wil- 
bur, of Syracuse, to teach at the great idiot asylum. 
The gentle, beauty-loving girl shrank from accept- 
ing the position. Affliction of any kind tried her 
spirit, but duty conquered and she determined to go. 
She left Walpole in October, and in November, 
Louisa, too, set forth to seek her fortune. Armed 
with a small trunk, twenty dollars, earned by stories 
in the Gazette, and her manuscripts, she received her 
mother's blessing and turned her face toward Bos- 
ton one rainy, hopeless-looking day. Here her en- 
thusiasm received its first shower-bath; her book 
was, of course, too late for holiday publication, so, 
with Heaven knows how many secret tears of dis- 
appointment, it was laid away, while Louisa bravely 
trudged about, hunting for employment — " teach- 
ing, sewing, or any housework. Won't go home to 
sit idle, while I have a head and a pair of hands." 

It was this indomitable spirit that proved her 
worth; the Alcotts all had it in a greater or less 
degree, but there was fighting stuff in Louisa and 



82 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

she would not be " downed." She had much to 
fight against ; in spite of literary ability and power- 
ful friends, the majority of busy people still looked 
askance at an Alcott who presumed to make any 
advance toward prosperity, and the daughter of the 
unworldly philosopher, who preferred to be poor 
all his life rather than sacrifice his ideals, had small 
chance save on her own merit. 

Louisa was only twenty-three when she set out 
alone for Boston, a mere girl still in many ways, 
but a life of struggle had given her a certain poise, 
a simple, direct way of facing things, which was 
one of the lessons she had learned from Emerson. 
Whatever discouragement she may have felt, she 
must have shown a bold, cheerful front to her own 
little world, for while she was wondering how she 
could secure comfortable board during the winter 
with twenty dollars in her pocket and no visible 
means of support, her cousins, the Sewalls, came 
to her rescue and offered her a home. This she 
accepted most gratefully, paying for her board by 
quantities of sewing, and, in her spare time, writing 
stories, reviewing books, and trying to cheer Anna 
and the home people with long, gossipy letters. 
The family at Walpole were feeling the severe win- 
ter, and poor Anna was heartsick over her work 
among the idiots. 

In December, she heard Thackeray lecture, but 
her pleasures just then were swallowed up in anxi- 
ety for the home people. She sent them a box for 



AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 83 

Christmas and in a letter to Anna she describes some 
of the gifts in her humorous way. 

" Boston, December 27th. 

** Dearest Nan : 

" I was so glad to hear from you, and hear that 
all were well. I am grubbing away as usual and 
trying to get money enough to buy mother a nice 
warm shawl. I have eleven dollars, all my own 
earning. ... I got a crimson ribbon for a bon- 
net for May. I took my straw and fixed it nicely 
with some little duds I had. Her old one has 
haunted me all winter and I want her to look neat; 
she is so graceful and pretty, and loves beauty 
so much, it is hard for her to be poor and wear 
other people's ugly things. You and I have learned 
not to mind much; but when I think of her I long 
to dash out and buy the finest hat the limited sum 
of ten dollars can procure. She says so sweetly 
in one of her letters : ' It is hard sometimes to see 
other people have so many nice things and I so few ; 
but I try not to be envious, but contented with my 
poor clothes and cheerful about it.' 

" I hope the little dear will like the bonnet and 
the frills I made her, and some bows I fixed over 
from some bright ribbons L. W. threw away. I 
get half my rarities from her rag-bag, and she 
doesn't know her old rags when fixed over. . . . 

" For our good little Betty, who is wearing all 
the old gowns we left, I shall soon be able to buy a 



84 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

new one and send it, with my blessing, to the 
cheerful saint. She writes me the funniest notes 
and tries to keep the old folks warm, and make 
the lonely house in the snowbanks cheerful and 
bright. 

" To Father I shall send new neckties and some 
paper ; then he will be happy, and can keep on with 
the beloved diaries, though the heavens fall. 

" Don't laugh at my plans, I'll carry them out 
if I go to service to do it. Seeing so much money 
flying about, I long to honestly get a little and make 
my dear family more comfortable. I feel weak- 
minded when I think of all they need and the little 
I can do. 

" Now about you : Keep the money you have 
earned by so many tears and sacrifices, and clothe 
yourself, for it makes me mad to know that my 
good little lass is going round in shabby things and 
being looked down upon by people who are not 
worthy to touch her patched shoes or the hem of 
her ragged old gowns." 

Of herself she writes : " My mite won't come 
amiss, and if tears can add to its value, I've shed 
my quart — first, over the book not coming out, for 
that was a sad blow, and I waited so long, it was 
dreadful when my castle in the air came tumbling 
about my ears. Pride made me laugh in public, 
but I wailed in private, and no one knew it. The 
folks at home think I rather enjoyed it, for I wrote 
a jolly letter. But my visit was spoiled, and now 



AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 85 

I'm digging- away for dear life, that I may not have 
come entirely in vain." 

It was in letters such as this that the true nature 
of the girl shone forth. Being a young woman of 
moods, Louisa relieved her depression at this time 
by writing a farce, which was taken by Mr. J. M. 
Field, to be brought out in Mobile, but unfortu- 
nately he died before it made its bow to the public. 
Fate seemed always to lay a finger on her dramatic 
productions, but the " story " form of literature 
was more successful. Even her poems found a 
market ; one on Dickens's " Little Nell " was pub- 
lished in the Courier, and after hearing Curtis lec- 
ture on Dickens, she wrote another on " Little 
Paul." She also received ten dollars for " Ber- 
tha," a story which was well advertised, and an- 
other ten dollars for " Genevieve," which went re- 
markably well. She planned a summer book called 
" Beach Bubbles," which was published story by 
story instead of in book form. Her brain was 
seething with plots and fancies, while her fingers 
were tied to her needle, for sewing piled upon her 
and she was too poor to refuse the work. One job 
of a dozen pillow-cases, a dozen sheets, six fine 
cambric neckties, and two dozen handkerchiefs, at 
which she worked all night, paid her only four dol- 
lars. Even the small sum of five dollars for a 
story would have been more profitable and less 
wearing. 

Anna came home from Syracuse about this time, 



86 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

sick and worn out from overwork. She stopped 
in Boston, where she and Louisa spent some happy- 
days together, visiting about. 

Writing in her journal, June, 1856, she says : 

" Home to find dear Betty very ill with scarlet fe- 
ver, caught from some poor children mother nursed 
when they fell sick, living over a cellar where pigs 
had been kept. The landlord (a deacon) would 
not clean the place until Mother threatened to sue 
him for allowing a nuisance. Too late to save two 
of the poor babies or Lizzie and May from the 
fever." 

From this illness Lizzie never recovered; the 
fever left its wasting marks upon her. They had 
an anxious time, for it came in its worst form, and 
the poor girl tossed in delirium, while they hung 
about her, fearful that each paroxysm would be 
her last. To those who have read " Little 
Women," the " dark days," when Beth had the 
fever, carried their full weight of woe. The blessed 
change, when the fever broke at last, must have 
been vividly felt by the little band watching each 
labored breath that brought their dear one back to 
them, a shadow of her bright happy self, to beam 
among them for a short while longer. 

Louisa found her hands full with nursing and 
housework, but her brave heart never failed her, 
and she managed to write a story a month during 
the summer. These stories are probably the " rub- 
bish " she speaks of in " Little Women " when she 



AFLOAT AS AN AUTHOR. 87 

says : " ' The Duke's Daughter ' paid the butcher's 
bill, ' A Phantom Hand ' put down a new carpet, 
and * The Curse of the Coventrys ' proved the bless- 
ing of the Marches in the way of groceries and 
gowns." 

" Little notice was taken of her stories, but they 
found a market, and, encouraged by this fact, she 
resolved to make a bold stroke for fame and 
fortune." 

This was Louisa to the life ; her stories may have 
been " rubbish," and, like her dramas, they may 
have been full of impossible situations but there 
was a high moral tone to even the faultiest, and 
while in later years she may have laughed over the 
highly colored romances, she never had cause to 
blush for a single thought contained in them. Their 
service rendered, the bills paid, " Genevieve," 
" Bertha," and the others died natural deaths, and 
the young author looked beyond, into a more whole- 
some world of literature. 



I 



CHAPTER VI. 



LITTLE WOMEN GROWN UP. 




|HE recovery of the invalid was very 
slow, but by the following October, 
Louisa, feeling that she could once more 
be spared, made her plans to go to Bos- 
ton for the winter. Walpole was pleasant enough 
in summer, with its visitors, its walks and its drives; 
but when the cold weather came it was only a snow- 
bank where people clung to their firesides in the 
vain endeavor to shut out the sound of the sharp 
winds that howled round the lonely little place. 
There was nothing an active, energetic girl could do 
there except to fold her hands and curb her impa- 
tience; it was not in Louisa's nature to do either. 
She says of herself : 

" I was born with a boy's spirit under my bib 
and tucker. I can't wait when I can work; so I 
took my little talent in my hand and forced the 
world again, braver than before, and wiser for my 
failures. ... I don't often pray in words, but when 
I set out that day with all my worldly goods in the 
little old trunk, my own earnings (twenty-five dol- 
lars) in my pocket, and much hope and resolution 



"LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. 89 

in my soul, my heart was very full, and I said to the 
Lord, ' Help us all, and keep us for one another,' 
as I never said it before, while I looked back at the 
dear faces watching me, so full of love and faith 
and hope," 

It took a very brave girl to shoulder her burden 
just now, worn out with a summer of anxiety, but 
Louisa's spirits were fortunately elastic, and once 
in Boston, she shook her gauntlet in Dame For- 
tune's face and challenged the lady to mortal com- 
bat. 

Her good friend, Mrs. David Reed, who kept a 
well-known boarding-house on Chauncey Street, 
offered her an attic room at three dollars a week 
with fire and board, an unusual price, but independ- 
ent Louisa sewed for her besides. It was a cozy, 
sunny little room, with a stove and a nice table 
where she could sit and write whenever she wished, 
and she began to hope great things from the quiet 
hours of uninterrupted work she would enjoy. 

The monthly story at ten dollars was still in de- 
mand, and there was plenty of sewing to keep her 
afloat. She also had some hope that her play, 
" The Rival Prima Donnas," might come out at 
last, and she calculated on being able to support 
herself and help the family besides. She was anx- 
ious also to get some hours' work as governess, but 
in this she was disappointed at first, though it came 
after. 

She began at this time to take a great interest 



90 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

in Theodore Parker. He was a man of earnest pur- 
pose and wide influence. He was not the usual 
type of minister, and his strong sermons were not 
always taken from a Bible text, but lessons were 
drawn from the everyday life of the working men 
and women among whom she lived. Thoughtful 
young people adored him, Louisa among the rest; 
and many a delightful Sunday evening was passed 
in his hospitable home. For hither came the best 
in the land, and the somewhat shy and unfortu- 
nately tall young woman, who could not conveni- 
ently tuck herself out of view, would slip into a 
corner and watch and enjoy a sight of these great 
beings. She describes him in " Work," in the 
character of Mr. Power, as " A sturdy man of 
fifty, with a keen, brave face, penetrating eyes, and 
mouth a little grim; but a voice so resonant and 
sweet, it reminded one of silver trumpets, and 
stirred and won the hearer with irresistible power. 
Rough gray hair and all the features rather rugged, 
as if the Great Sculptor had blocked out a grand 
statue and left the man's own soul to finish it." 

It was at his house she met Charles Sumner, Julia 
Ward Howe, Phillips, Garrison, Beecher, and other 
" great ones," and as she sat apart and listened to 
these eloquent talkers, whose pet theme was abo- 
lition, her enthusiastic nature warmed at the fire, 
and freedom for the slave was thereafter the war- 
cry of Louisa Alcott. She writes to her father de- 
scribing these Sunday evenings : 



"LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. 91 

" All talk, and I sit in a corner listening and 
wishing a certain placid, gray-haired gentleman 
was there talking, too. Mrs. Parker calls on me, 
reads my stories, and is very good to me. Theo- 
dore asks Louisa * how her worthy parents do,' and 
is otherwise very friendly to the large bashful girl 
who adorns his parlor steadily." 

It was a very happy and very busy winter, full 
of stirring events, social gayety, fine lectures, thea- 
ter and opera treats, plenty of sewing and much 
writing. On November 3. 1856, she writes in her 
journal : 

" Wrote all the morning. In the p.m. went to 
see the Sumner reception, as he comes home after 
the Brooks affair. I saw him pass up Beacon Street, 
pale and feeble, but smiling and bowing. I rushed 
to Hancock Street, and was in time to see him 
bring his proud old mother to the window, when the 
crowd gave three cheers for her. I cheered, too, 
and was very much excited. Mr. Parker met him 
somewhere before the ceremony began, and the 
above P. cheered like a boy; and Sumner laughed 
and nodded as his friend pranced and shouted, bare- 
headed and beaming." 

Charles Sumner was at that time the idol of Bos- 
ton ; he was a brilliant man and a fine speaker. 
He was elected United States Senator from Massa- 
chusetts, to succeed Daniel Webster, and it is a re- 
markable coincidence that Henry Clay left the Sen- 
ate on the day Sumner entered it. He was bitterly 



92 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

opposed to slavery, and always championed the 
cause of the weak against the strong. He was 
really more of a scholar than a politician, but his 
country needed him and there was no hesitation 
when this call came : 

Forego thy dreams of lettered ease; 

Lay thou the scholar's promise by: 
The rights of man are more than these. 

He heard and answered, "Here am I." 

His plain speaking made an enemy of Preston 
Smith Brooks, who attacked him in the Senate with 
a bludgeon, and it was when recovering from his 
wounds that Boston rang with his welcome home. 

If Louisa had been a man, there is no telling 
what part she would have taken in the burning ques- 
tions of the day, but her petticoats kept her shy, and 
the time had not yet arrived when women could 
speak their minds ; so she could only stand on street 
corners and cheer, and write, write, write, in her 
sunny attic. 

Again she says : " My kind cousin L. W. got tick- 
ets for a course of lectures on ' Italian Literature,' 
and sent me a new cloak with other needful and 
pretty things such as girls love to have. I shall 
never forget how kind she has always been to me." 

November 5th was a " red-letter " day, for 
though her play was not yet forthcoming, Mr. 
Barry gave her a pass to the theater, and in the 
evening she saw La Grange as Norma, and grew 



"LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. 93 

stage-struck, as she usually did over good things. 
The next day she took a " Httle walk " from Boston 
to Roxbury to consult her cousin, Dr. Windship, 
about the play, and rode home in the new cars just 
established. She adds : " In the evening went to 
teach at Warren Street Chapel Charity School. I'll 
help as I am helped, if I can. Mother says no one 
so poor he can't do a little for some one poorer yet." 

About this time, May came to Boston to visit her 
aunt, Mrs. Bond, and study drawing. She had 
great talent, which needed just such help for its 
development, and Louisa rejoiced over her good 
luck. May was full of enthusiasm, and the sisters 
had a happy meeting and a real home talk. The 
little cottage in the snowbank was cozy and warm, 
but Elizabeth's delicate health kept them anxious; 
this was a shadow which hung persistently over 
them in spite of the good times. 

Louisa found constant use for her theater pass 
On one occasion she saw Forrest as Othello. She 
writes : " It is funny to see how attentive all the 
once cool gentlemen are to Miss Alcott, now she 
has a pass to the new theater." She went to a little 
party at her aunt's on the evening of her birthday, 
November 29th, which she greatly enjoyed. She 
says : " May looked very pretty and seemed to be 
a favorite. The boys teased me about being an 
authoress, and said I'd be famous yet. Will if I can, 
but something else may be better for me." 

Birthdays were serious occasions to Louisa, but 



94 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

this one was brighter than usual. She had letters 
from home and a pretty pin from her father, so she 
went to bed happy. 

December was a story-writing month — Christ- 
mas and New Year tales. The active brain spun 
them out for the money. One, " The Cross on the 
Church Tower," suggested by the tower before her 
window, must have specially appealed to her. 

She was beginning, however, to feel the need 
of something better in her writing. Her stories 
answered their purpose, and helped her in times of 
need, but nothing more; there was scarcely one 
which, in later days, she thought worth preserving. 
She longed to do something really good; she felt 
that she had talent above the columns of the weekly 
papers, if she only had a chance to try her wings. 
Even now, dim ideas of a novel began to hover 
around her, but it had no shape as yet. Their own 
family life with its many experiences, she thought 
would prove most interesting, beginning with her 
father's boyhood at Spindle Hill. The Temple 
School, Fruitlands, Boston and Concord, she had 
planned as chapters. She says : " The trials and 
triumphs of the Pathetic Family would make a capi- 
tal book; may I live to do it." 

And she did; not the book indeed, that she in- 
tended about a Pathetic Family, but a winsome 
study of four wholesome, happy, hearty girls, who 
are always peeping from a sunny little book, to chat 
with girls of coming generations about the same 



"LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. 95 

pleasures, aspirations, and experiences which come 
to all girls through all time. 

Louisa's income was now increased by three 
hours' work as daily governess, which included 
caring for a little invalid. 

" It is hard work," she writes, " but I can do it; 
and am glad to sit in a large fine room part of each 
day, after my sky-parlor, which has nothing pretty 
in it, and only the gray tower and blue sky outside, 
as I sit at the window writing. I love luxury, but 
freedom and independence better." 

The New Year, 1857, began brightly; the same 
kind cousin, L. W., gave her her first new silk dress 
and she felt as if all the Hancocks, Quincys, and 
great folk of Boston beheld her as she went forth 
proudly arrayed. 

Mr. Alcott, who had been on a lecture tour to 
New York and Philadelphia, finished up at Boston 
on his way home. His trip, as usual, had yielded 
but little money. " Why don't rich people, who 
enjoy his talks, pay for them? " Louisa asked. 
" Philosophers are always poor, and too modest to 
pass around their own hats." 

She was very proud of May's first portrait, a 
crayon head of her mother, which was an excellent 
likeness and brought joy to the family. Her father 
stayed some time in Boston, and gave many in- 
teresting talks to a circle which appreciated him 
and saw him always at his best, and Louisa en- 
joyed having him so constantly with her. There 



96 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

was wonderful sympathy between the two. Louisa, 
the capable, practical breadwinner, adored the phi- 
losopher in her father, the spirit which in spite of 
many downward pullings could always rise above 
the clouds. Her definition of a philosopher, at 
which no doubt her own father laughed most heart- 
ily of all, was " a man up in a balloon, with his fam- 
ily and friends holding the ropes which confine him 
to earth, and trying to haul him down." 

In February, she ran home as a "Valentine," 
then she went back to work till May, when anxiety 
for her sister drove her home for good. The last 
months in Boston were very pleasant. She fin- 
ished teaching and went about and rested after her 
labors; she was a most social person and loved to 
visit. She still appeared on Sunday evenings at 
Mr. Parker's, and there among the other guests 
she met F. B. Sanborn, the youfig educator, whose 
broad mind and able instruction has made from 
that day to this a notable center of learning in 
Concord. 

She also saw young Edwin Booth as Brutus, 
liking him better than his father, and on the loth 
of May she reached home, having accomplished 
what she had set out to do — " supported myself, 
written eight stories, taught four months, earned a 
hundred dollars and sent money home." 

Now came the real shadow on her life, the heavi- 
est, because it was the first, and sorrow is the hard- 
est teacher one can have. Beth was slipping away 



"LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. 97 

from them ; they did not reahze it at first, the 
change was so gradual, but when Louisa came from 
Boston, a heavy weight fell upon her heart when 
she saw her p-ister's face. 

" It was no paler, and but little thinner than in 
the autumn, yet there was a strange transparent 
look about it, as if the mortal was being slowly 
refined away, and the immortal shining through the 
frail flesh, with an indescribable beauty." 

There was a seeming hush in the little household 
at Walpole; there was a drawn and haggard look 
on the mother's face, a gentle pity in the father's 
eyes, while Louisa, Anna, and May tried to shut 
out all thought of the trial that must come. The 
most serene among them was Elizabeth herself ; her 
beautiful disposition shone forth and lent her a 
strength that was surprising. Those about her 
dared not look forward to what home would be 
without her sweet and gentle presence, for she 
was, above all, the " home girl," with countless 
little home graces. These may not be noticed 
in the humdrum of every day; but when a pause 
comes and the signs are seen no more, we can- 
not get used to the silence and void their absence 
makes. 

Here the philosopher's influence shone forth, and 
the brave family lived to the height of his teaching. 
Death was knocking at the door, but they held him 
off and did what they could to defy him. 

It was about this time that Louisa read Charlotte 



gg LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Bronte's life, such a contrast to her own, with its 
home spirit and its innocent pleasures, that the girl's 
heart, very tender just then with the cloud upon 
it, ached for the three lonely sisters on the moors. 
She writes : 

" Wonder if I shall ever be famous enough for 
people to care to read my story and struggles. I 
can't be a Charlotte Bronte, but I may do a little 
something yet." 

In July, Mr. Alcott's mother came to visit them. 
She was eighty-four, but a strong, industrious and 
wise old lady, and a great delight to the Alcott 
girls, who clustered around her, never tired of lis- 
tening to anecdotes of their father's boyhood. " A 
sweet old lady," writes Louisa, " and I am glad to 
know her and see where Father gets his nature, 
... A house needs a grandma in it. As we sat 
talking over Father's boyhood, I never realized so 
plainly before, how much he has done for himself. 
His early life sounded like a pretty old romance, 
and Mother added the love passages." 

By August, Elizabeth grew so much worse that 
they decided to go back to Concord. Mr. Alcott 
was never happy far away from Emerson, the one 
true friend, who loved, understood, and helped him. 
There was a small estate for sale in the eastern 
part of Concord ; on it was a substantial though very 
old farmhouse, the Orchard House, as it was after- 
wards called; it had been standing for nearly two 
centuries when the Alcotts became the owners of it. 



"LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. 99 

It was an easy distance from Emerson's house, and 
adjoining it, on the east, was Hawthorne's home. 
The Wayside, which had been the Alcott's Hillside 
ten years before. ^ 

Mrs. Alcott took the invalid to the seashore while 
the girls made the move from Walpole to Con- 
cord, but there was so much to be done to make the 
old farmhouse habitable, that they rented half of 
another house while repairs were going on. They 
fitted up a pleasant room for Beth, and when she 
came home, more shadowy than ever, they all set- 
tled down for the winter, uncertain what it would 
bring them. 

The dear old grandmother went home with her 
son, but Louisa stayed where she was, she had no 
heart for Boston ; she hovered around the sick- 
room, and on her birthday she writes : 

" Twenty-five this month. I feel my quarter of 
a century heavy on my shoulders just now, I lead 
two lives : one serene, gay with plays, and so on ; 
the other, very sad, in Betty's room, for though she 
wishes us to act and loves to see us get ready, the 
shadow is there, and Mother and I see it. Betty 
loves to have me with her, and I am with her at 
night, for Mother needs rest. Betty says she feels 
' strong ' when I am near." 

This is tenderly described in " Little Women," 
when Jo keeps vigil with this beloved sister in " The 
Valley of the Shadow." 

" Often when she woke, Jo found Beth reading 



ICX3 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

in her well-worn little book, heard her singing softly 
to beguile the sleepless night, or saw her lean her 
face upon her hands while slow tears dropped 
through the transparent fingers; and Jo would lie 
watching her, with thoughts too deep for tears, feel- 
ing that Beth, in her simple unselfish way, was try- 
ing to wean herself from the dear old life and fit 
herself for the life to come, by sacred words of 
comfort, quiet prayers, and the music she loved 
so well." 

During those days of waiting, her hands were 
never idle, and she would make little things and 
drop them down to the school children who passed 
beneath her window, and she would smile down 
into the upturned grateful faces. But by and by 
the needle grew " too heavy " and the work was 
put away forever. 

The poem which came from Louisa's full heart 
at this time tells all one cares to know of the sad 
parting. In " Little Women " she called it 

My Beth, 

Sitting patient in the shadow 

Till the blessed light shall come, 
A serene and saintly presence 

Sanctifies our troubled home. 
Earthly joys, and hopes, and sorrows. 

Break like ripples on the strand 
Of the deep and solemn river 

Where her willing feet now stand. 



"LITTLE WOMEN" GROWN UP. loi 

Oh, my sister, passing from me, 

Out of human care and strife, 
Leave me as a gift, those virtues 

Which have beautified your life. 
Dear, bequeath me that great patience 

Which has power to sustain 
A cheerful, uncomplaining spirit, 

In its prison-house of pain. 

Give me, for I need it sorely, 

Of that courage wise and sweet, 
Which has made the path of duty 

Green beneath your willing feet. 
Give me that unselfish nature, 

That with charity divine 
Can pardon wrong for love's dear sake. 

Meek heart, forgive me mine! 

Thus our daily parting loseth 

Something of its bitter pain, 
And while learning this hard lesson, 

My great loss becomes my gain. 
For the touch of grief will render 

My wild nature more serene, 
Give to life new aspirations — 

A new trust in the unseen. 

Henceforth, safe across the river, 

I shall see forever more 
A beloved household spirit, 

Waiting for me on the shore, 
Hope and faith, born of my sorrow, 

Guardian angels shall become. 
And the sister gone before me. 

By their hands shall lead me home. 



102 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Louisa never spoke of this grief as she did in 
those few pathetic sentences in " Little Women " : 

" So the spring days came and went, the sky- 
grew clearer, the earth greener, the flowers were up 
fair and early, and the birds came back in time to 
say good-by to Beth, who, like a tired but trustful 
child, clung to the hands that had led her all her 
life, as father and mother guided her tenderly 
through the valley of the shadow, and gave her up 
to God. ... As Beth had hoped, the ' tide went 
out easily '; and in the dark hour before the dawn, 
on the bosom where she had drawn her first breath, 
she drew her last, with no farewell, but one loving 
look and a little sight. . . . 

" When morning came, for the first time in many 
months, the fire was out, Jo's place was empty, and 
the room was very still. But a bird sang blithely on 
a budding bough close by, the snowdrops blossomed 
freshly at the window, and the spring sunshine 
streamed in like a benediction over the placid face 
upon the pillow — a face so full of painless peace 
that those who loved it best smiled through their 
tears, and thanked God that Beth was well at last." 

They buried her in Sleepy Hollow close by, and 
Emerson, Thoreau, Sanborn, and John Pratt car- 
ried her tenderly to her last home, which she chose 
herself. They sang her favorite hymn, they decked 
the house with her favorite flowers, they made of 
her memory a bright spot, for the shadow was lifted 
and the pain was gone. 



CHAPTER VII. 



PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 




T took the family several months to set- 
tle down after Elizabeth's death. She 
had been such a quiet force in their lives 
that they did not recognize how much 
her influence had governed them; the house where 
she died became haunted with sad memories, and 
their own not being quite ready, they occupied tem- 
porarily a wing of the Hawthorne place which had 
once been theirs. The Hawthornes were abroad at 
the time, so the arrangement was satisfactory all 
round, for the Alcott's property was adjoining, and 
im.provements could be superintended on the spot. 
Mrs. Alcott soon became absorbed in the new 
home, and found much comfort in watching its 
growth. Mr. Alcott was already planning orchards 
and outside improvements. May had gone to Bos- 
ton, and Anna had picked up the threads of a hap- 
py romance which had been laid aside when Beth 
began to fail ; so Louisa, in the long spring days 
which followed, slipped into the dead sister's place, 
keeping house for her father and mother, trying to 
hold the restless spirit in check, and watching with 
8 103 



I04 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

much interest the growing of Anna's pretty love 
story. John Pratt had been a pupil at Sanborn's 
school when the Alcotts moved back to Concord, 
and had taken part with the girls in plays, charades, 
and masquerades. He was the son of Minot Pratt, 
a well-known resident of Concord, a good friend of 
Mr. Alcott's, with whom he sympathized in many 
ways. Minot Pratt, a celebrated botanist, was 
wonderfully successful in the cultivation and rear- 
ing of flowers; he had also been a member of the 
famous Brook Farm community, which, like Fruit- 
lands, had come to nothing, so, as there was much 
in common between the two men, it is small wonder 
that their children should be thrown in pleasant as- 
sociation. 

John Pratt, as Louisa described him, was " hand- 
some, healthy, and happy " when his engagement to 
Anna Alcott was announced. Louisa, though out- 
wardly rejoicing, took the news very much to heart. 
" So another sister is gone," she writes, and later : 
" I moaned in private over my great loss, and said 
I'd never forgive John for taking Anna from me, 
but I will, if he makes her happy, and turn to little 
May for my comfort." 

It was just here that the hungry soul of this 
strong, self-reliant young woman cried out. Love 
and sympathy she depended upon, and the father 
and mother, who had never failed her, came to her 
rescue now. In the first days of her grief when 
unaccustomed to sleeping through a whole night, 



PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 105 

she would wake up thinking she heard the dear in- 
vahd calHng- to her, the sense of her loss was very 
keen; it was then that her mother would come to 
her in the darkness, and soothe her as only mothers 
can, and talk of patience and resignation, of which 
Mrs. Alcott herself was such a beautiful example. 
As the bitterness wore away and the active mind 
was stirring again, she had long talks with her 
father in his study, and gained from him a bit of 
that quiet philosophy which had kept him serene 
through so many trials. 

Added to this, her own energy and strong will 
served her now. Once more, in the intervals of 
housekeeping, she took up her pen, and before she 
knew it, stories began to grow in her brain. They 
were all simple tales, but something of her own love 
and sorrow had crept into them, making them very 
sweet and very true to life. Little by little the 
magazines began to' call for her work and to pay 
more liberally, and Louisa found herself able to 
provide greater comforts for the household. 

In June, May came home, and Anna returned 
from a visit to Pratt Farm, so Louisa ran ofif for a 
little change to Boston, where her hosts of relatives 
always made it pleasant for her. Here she saw 
Charlotte Cushman and had " stage fever " so badly 
that she came nearer being an actress than ever in 
her life before. Dr. Windship asked Mr. Barry to 
let her act at his theater, and it was all privately ar- 
ranged that she was to do Widozv Pottle, for the 



lo6 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

dress was a good disguise and she knew the part 
well, but poor Louisa never got her dramatic ma- 
chinery wound up that somiething did not happen. 
Mr, Barry broke his leg at a most inconvenient mo- 
ment, so she had to give it up and swallow her dis- 
appointment as best she could. Fortunately at this 
period the new house in Concord called for all hands 
to help in the moving, and Louisa hurried home to 
a busy, happy time, for work always agreed with 
the Alcott girls. In July, her journal tells us some- 
thing about it: 

" Went into the new house and began to settle. 
Father is happy ; Mother glad to be at rest ; Anna is 
in bliss with her gentle John, and May busy over 
her pictures. I have plans simmering, but must 
sweep and dust and wash my dish-pans a little longer 
till I see my way. Worked off my stage fever in 
writing a story, and felt better; also a moral tale 
and got twenty-five dollars which pieced up our sum- 
mer gowns and bonnets all round. The inside of 
my head can at least cover the outside. . . . The 
weeklies will all take stories; and I can simmer 
novels while I do my housework, so see my way to 
a little money, and perhaps more by and by, if I 
ever make a hit. . . . Much company to see the new 
house. All seem glad that the wandering family is 
anchored at last." 

This new home they christened " Orchard 
House," on account of its fine apple trees. It looked 
out on the famous Lexington Street, up which the 



PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 107 

British retreated in Revolutionary clays, and back 
of it was a range of hills, the green of the pines re- 
lieved by patches of gray birch. There were mag- 
nificent elms shading the house, and the apple trees 
were ever changing in hue. The trees were Mr. 
Alcott's special pride ; he says of them : 

" The ancient elms in front of the house, of a 
hundred years' standing and more, are the pride of 
the yard, luxuriant and far-spreading, overshadow- 
ing the roof and gables, yet admitting light into hall 
and chambers. Sunny rooms — sunny household." 

In front of the house stretched a broad meadow, 
supposed once to have been the bed of the Con- 
necticut River. A charming woodland path wound 
upward to the very heart of the hills, to the summit 
of which the Alcott girls loved to climb. It is 
doubtless upon these heights where they met many 
an afternoon, that the " Little Women " built their 
castles in the air, and in memory of their childish 
days kept up the old play of Pilgrim's Progress. 
They called the top of this hill the " Delectable 
Mountain," it being the highest point, and naturally 
their goal. Here is Miss Alcott's own description 
of it in " Little Women " : 

"... Through an opening in the woods one 
could look across the wide blue river, the meadows 
on the other side, far over the outskirts of the great 
city [that must have been Boston, only twenty 
miles away] to the green hills that rose to meet 
the sky. The sun was low, and the heavens glowed 



lo8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

with the splendor of an autumn sunset. Gold and 
purple clouds lay on the hilltops; and rising high 
into the ruddy light were silvery- white peaks that 
shone like the airy spires of some Celestial City." 

Concord was noted for its wonderful sunsets, and 
Hawthorne, who loved the solitude of this special 
ridge, enjoyed the brilliant colors as he paced his 
favorite haunt, treading down the tangle of under- 
growth until he wore an irregular path upon the 
brow of the hill, which is distinctly visible to this 
day. Often, no doubt, he came across this group 
of sisters : Anna with her sewing, May with her 
drawing, and Louisa reading aloud to them in her 
clear, delightful way ; and many a time the shy man, 
who seldom strayed from the shelter of his own 
sweet household, would be drawn into their little 
circle in spite of himself, for Louisa's broad soci- 
ability reached out to all who passed her way. 

Across the meadow stretch, rose other hills lead- 
ing to Walden, which Thoreau loved and where he 
often lived for weeks at a time, in the very heart of 
nature. These hills were not so high, but they were 
beautiful and well wooded, so Orchard House was 
surrounded on all sides by something to delight the 
eye, and Mr. Alcott had the good sense in remodel- 
ing the place, to use only subdued colors in freshen- 
ing its exterior, something in harmony with the 
bark of the trees, the color of the earth, and the 
green of the leaves. In walking over the grounds 
of Orchard House, the eye was pleased with un- 



PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 109 

expected glimpses of his rustic work; a table here, 
a bench there, a little foot-bridge, or a low fence. 

Inside the three girls lent their skillful aid. They 
painted and papered the rooms with their own 
hands, they laid carpets, they made and hung their 
own curtains, and after all was in order. May put 
the finishing touches with her beautiful drawings, 
and the result was a home, sweet, simple, and re- 
fined, which opened wide its doors to the friends in 
Concord. 

For some time the festive air of the new home 
kept Louisa contented. She was never so happy as 
when among her friends, and those who had lent 
most color to her life were there around them. The 
Alcotts and the Emersons were very intimate, and 
Dr. Edward Emerson, Emerson's only son, gives us 
a most delightful picture of Louisa and her sisters 
at this period (1858). Louisa he described as fine 
looking, with regular, though massive features and 
wavy brown hair. Anna he did not consider pretty, 
but so friendly and sweet-tempered " that the beauty 
of expression made up for the lack of it in her 
features. May, the youngest, was a tall, well-made 
blonde; the lower part of her face was irregular, 
but she had beautiful blue eyes and brilliant yellow 
hair." 

Once, during a visit he paid at the Alcott house 
with his mother and sister, he tells us how Louisa 
entertained them in her own witty fashion, with 
burlesques on her father's and his father's writings. 



no LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

calling Mr. Emerson, Rolf Walden Emerboy. He 
continues : 

" In Concord at Mr. Sanborn's school, the Alcott 
girls were in demand for private theatricals, their 
talent and experience being well known. If Louisa 
could make our sides ache with laughter, Anna 
could cause our handkerchiefs to come out, and 
much swallowing of lumps in the throat. 

" The evenings at the Alcott house also left de- 
lightful memories. Although a long walk, the bait 
was good enough to draw the boys and girls often. 
The hearty and motherly quality of Mrs. Alcott's 
welcome was something to remember. There was a 
piano — none of the best — and May, in the highest 
spirits, would swoop to the stool and all would fall 
to dancing; the mother herself often joining us. 
One of the guests would relieve May, and give her 
a turn. Then, with or without voices, we stood by 
the piano singing ' Rolling Home,' ' Ubi sunt O 
pocula,' ' Music in the Air,' and after the war be- 
gan, ' The Battle Hymn of the Republic,' ' John 
Brown,' ' Marching Along,' and other stirring 
songs fresh from camp." 

He tells of the jolly evenings on the porch, 
where they watched the twilight deepen into dark, 
and told " creepy " stories, and ate chestnuts and 
apples amid thrills of horror, and went home at ten 
o'clock at the very latest. 

Masquerades were a great delight to these young 
ones, and there were many in Concord. Their fa- 



PROGRESS AND POVERTY. ill 

vorite one was the sheet party, where everyone 
looked ahke, draped in white sheets, a white cloth 
with eyeslits over the face, and a pillow-case pinned 
tightly around the scalp, entirely concealing the hair, 
and hanging down behind. 

" These pleasant pictures of the past," Dr. Emer- 
son says in conclusion, " may read a lesson. Great 
pleasures may be had simply and cheaply; good- 
nature, self-help, mother-wit, independence, are 
such good ingredients, that a cake baked with them 
is safe to turn out well." 

Truly the days at Concord sped gayly. The 
thunders of war were heard in the distance, to be 
sure, but the call to arms had not yet reached the 
placid little town. Louisa's wings were beginning 
to flap again with the strong desire to go out into 
the world, but perhaps it was as well that during 
those hot times of discussion she found herself 
safely hemmed in by this little band of philosophers, 
for she, being naturally impulsive and enthusiastic, 
thought of the threatening war only as of a struggle 
between the North and the South over the freedom 
or bondage of the slave. And she and Mr. Haw- 
thorne, her next-door neighbor, must have had 
many a spirited argument on that very subject, for 
though he was loyal to the North, he always 
contended that abolition was not the keynote 
of the war. In a letter written by him in 
1861, he says: "Though I approve of the war 
as much as any man, I don't quite understand 



112 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

what we are fighting for, or what definite result 
can be expected." 

Emerson, Alcott, and Thoreau were, in their 
calmer way, as enthusiastic as Louisa herself; 
though with their riper judgment, they held them- 
selves in check. But F. B. Sanborn, the young 
school-teacher of Concord, was not so discreet, and 
came very near arrest and imprisonment for his 
open championship of John Brown. 

To-day, safe and peaceful under one flag, we of 
the North, South, East, and West wonder at the 
intense feeling that hung over every question of 
that day, but to Louisa, born in the midst of the 
struggle, it was all very real and tragic. She longed 
with all her girl's soul — she was a girl still in spite 
of her twenty-six years — to get into the thick of it 
and fight. Sanborn seemed to .her something of a 
hero, for in his place she would have done likewise. 
She placed him from that moment side by side with 
the men she most admired, and a lifelong friendship 
was sealed between them, for she liked his inde- 
pendence and his spirit. 

He had come to Concord comparatively unknown, 
but presently the modest school he opened for boys 
and girls began to attract attention and soon be- 
came popular, while children of the best families 
swelled his ranks, for he was friend as well as 
teacher, and made study a delight to his pupils. 
Miss Alcott has many times made use of him in her 
stories, and while she and her sisters were too old 



PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 113 

to be regular pupils, they joined in all the frolics, 
which relieved the hours of study. Indeed it was 
through Sanborn's interest that Louisa's " Hospital 
Sketches " appeared in the Boston Commonzvealth 
some years later, when he became editor, and 
through them she became better known than ever 
before. 

However happy they w^ere at Orchard House, 
there was still very little money in the family pocket- 
book, and a very persistent wolf knocking at the 
door. In spite of the many delights of Concord, 
the peace and quiet were trying to Louisa ; she was 
not content to drift, she wanted to figiht and beat the 
waves with her sturdy arms, and push ahead, for 
she had long ago made up her mind that the family 
fortunes lay in her hands. In October she decided 
to set out once more for Boston, resolving as she 
said " to take Fate by the throat and shake a living 
out of her." 

This she succeeded in doing with a pluck and 
energy that amazed her friends. Louisa w'as con- 
tinually " amazing her friends." There was a bub- 
bling spirit of youth in her that would not be 
quenched ; she had in her short life, received as 
many if not more hard knocks than most girls, but 
she was never " downed," and the success which 
pleased her most was what she had w^on after a 
vigorous battle. 

She spent the year in Boston as governess; she 
lived in her old " sky parlor," and in her spare time 



114 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

fell to work on her stories, visited her friends, 
sewed, went to lectures, and the theater very often ; 
she was happy because she was busy. 

" The past year," she writes on her twenty-sixth 
birthday, " has brought us our first death and be- 
trothal — two events that change my life. I can see 
that these experiences have taken a deep hold and 
changed or developed me. Lizzie helps me spirit- 
ually, and a little success makes me more self-reliant. 
... I feel as if I could write better now — more 
truly of things I have felt, and therefore know. I 
hope I shall yet do my great book, for that seems 
to be my work and I am growing up to it, I even 
think of trying the Atlantic. There's ambition for 
you! ... If Mr. Lowell takes the one Father car- 
ried to him, I shall think I can do something." 

In December, 1858, Mr. Alcott once again started 
out on a lecture tour, and May came to Boston and 
stayed with her sister while she took drawing les- 
sons. They spent Christmas at home, and the fol- 
lowing January found Louisa at home again nurs- 
ing her mother, who was very ill. She was always 
most gentle and skillful in a sick room ; she thought 
she had a gift for it. " If I couldn't write or act, 
I'd try it," she said ; " I may yet." 

Her most important story at this time was " Mark 
Field's Mistake," to which she added a sequel. 
" Had a queer time over it," she says in her journal, 
" getting up at night to write it, being too full to 
sleep." This was a very bad habit which grew 



PROGRESS AND POVERTY. I15 

upon her in later years, when the books and the 
stories came fast and thick. 

" ' Mark ' is a success," she writes, '' and much 
praised. . . . Busy life, writing, sewing, getting all 
I can from lectures, books, and good people. Life is 
my college. ]\Iay I graduate well and earn some 
honors ! " 

One thing this year in Boston did prove to her — 
that teaching was jwt her vocation ; she resolved 
thenceforth to do as little as possible, for the writing 
was beginning to pay much better. She went back 
to Concord in April, glad to be there, if the truth 
must be known. This had been her third attempt at 
supporting herself in Boston, and she had done far 
better than she had hoped. She had grown in 
every way; she had gained experience, she stood 
firmly on her own strong feet ; the same feet which 
carried her from Concord to Boston one day, a dis- 
tance of twenty miles, and supported her through a 
dance the same evening without the faintest fatigue. 

Louisa Alcott at twenty-seven was a fine, healthy, 
heroic young creature, one destined always to stay 
young, though the world grew old around her. Li 
November, her birth month, her first great luck 
came to her, " Hurrah ! " she writes, " my story 
was accepted and Lowell asked if it was not a trans- 
lation from the German, it was so unlike most tales. 
I felt much set up and my fifty dollars will be very 
happy money. People seem to think it a great thing 
to get into the Atlantic; but I've not been pegging 



Il6 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

away all these years in vain, and I may yet have 
books, and publishers, and a fortune of my own. 
Success has gone to my head and I wander a little. 
Twenty-seven years old and very happy ! " 

John Brown was executed on December 2, 1859, 
and Louisa mourned with all the others in Concord. 
It was the first note of the war, and the men and 
women stood ready to do their part, awaiting the 
call. 

In March, i860, she wrote " A Modern Cinder- 
ella," making Anna the heroine, and John Pratt the 
hero; this she sent to the Atlantic and they accepted 
it at once. It is a simple little story with something 
of the same charm that hovers round " Little 
Women " and " An Old-Fashioned Girl," and for 
that reason it was sure to attract. Quite elated over 
this success, she began another story, " By the 
River," but one could never tell by the tone of it how 
in reality she was bubbling over with happiness and 
hope, for it is mournful to a degree, and sounds like 
a funeral dirge. This was most unnatural for Lou- 
isa, who though a young woman of many moods, 
was generally cheerful on paper. She tells us how 
on meeting Miss Rebecca Harding, who had made 
some stir as an author, the two sat apart and com- 
pared notes. Louisa describes her as " a handsome, 
fresh, quiet woman, who says she never had any 
troubles, though she writes about woes. I told her 
I had had lots of troubles; so I write jolly tales; 
and we wondered why we each did so." 



PROGRESS AND POVERTY. T17 

She took to sewing after this ; her clever ideas 
got into her needle quite as often as they did into 
her pen. She made a beautiful ball dress for May, 
and two riding habits for May and herself. " So 
one of our dreams came true," she says, " and we 
really did ' dash away on horseback.' " 

Being tall, graceful girls they must have looked 
well on horseback, and I dare say harum-scarum Jo 
told the absolute truth when she described in " Lit- 
tle Women " how Amy learned to ride. " She 
used to practice mounting, holding the reins, and 
sitting straight on an old saddle in the tree." 

All the Concord boys and girls rode horseback, 
so it is pretty certain that Louisa and May had 
many a companion to share the pleasure of those 
fair spring days. Louisa was adored by the young 
people in Concord, especially the boys, and that is 
perhaps the real secret of why she never married. 
She liked men of ripe years and hoary locks, or boys 
" young and tender " like those in Concord or Bos- 
ton, but men of her own age stirred no passing 
emotion. She tells us of a funny lover, aged forty, 
who lost his heart to her in the cars. He was a 
handsome Southerner, and called upon her to pay 
his addresses. When she refused to see him, he 
haunted the road, with his hat off, to the amusement 
of her sisters, who had great fun over ** Jo's lover." 
" My adorers are all queer," she adds. 

In the early part of May, Theodore Parker died 
in Florence, where he had gone for his health. In 



Il8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

June she went to Boston, to the memorial meeting 
for him, which was very beautiful. " I was glad 
to have known so good a man and been called 
* friend ' by him." 

On the 23d of May, Anna was married. Her 
uncle, the Rev. S. J. May, performed the cere- 
mony, and in " Little Women " Miss Alcott has 
given us a vivid description of the sweet old- 
fashioned wedding, the difference being that Beth 
was not there, only the two comely sisters, in their 
thin gray gowns and roses, and the bride in her 
silver-gray silk and little white bonnet, with the 
lilies of the valley that her John loved best. 

It must have been a solemn moment, this going 
away of the eldest daughter, but the day was beau- 
tiful, " the house full of sunshine, flowers, friends, 
and happiness," and their parents' wedding-day be- 
sides. " I mourn the loss of my Nan," says Louisa, 
" and am not comforted." Nevertheless, knowing 
how closely smiles followed tears in Louisa's nature, 
we can imagine her the life of the fun and frolic 
that followed, when the old folks danced around 
the bridal pair on the lawn, making a pretty picture 
beneath their Revolutionary elm. 

" Then with tears and kisses, our dear girl went 
happily away with her good John, and we ended 
our first wedding. Mr. Emerson kissed her, and I 
thought that honor would make even matrimony 
endurable, for he is the god of my idolatry, and has 
been for years." , 



PROGRESS AND POVERTY. 119 

Though she might make merry at tlie wedding 
feast, she loved this elder sister as her second self, 
and we can picture Louisa, after the bride's de- 
parture, rushing up to the garret, flinging herself 
down in a heap, and bedewing the old chests and 
rag bags with a few hearty tears. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 




EANWHILE the family fortunes had 
been looking up, and with the appoint- 
ment of Mr. Alcott as Superintendent of 
Schools in Concord, there was much re- 
joicing. He soon began to change the order of 
things. Just as years ago, he had put forth new 
ideas about teaching, so with the same will, he in- 
sisted upon them now. The children were always 
first to him, and they soon began to look upon the 
tall, white-haired, stately gentleman as their friend 
and playmate. In Louisa's first letter to Anna after 
her marriage, written the following Sunday indeed, 
she gives a humorous description of one of their 
frolics : 



" Mrs. Pratt — 

" My Dear Madam : 
" The news of the town is as follows, and I 
present it in the most journalesque style of corre- 
spondence. After the bridal train had departed, the 
mourners withdrew to their respective homes; and 
the bereaved family solaced their woe by washing 



THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 12I 

dishes for two hours, and bolting the remains of the 
funeral baked meats. At four, having got settled 
down, we were all routed up by the appearance of 
a long procession of children filing down our lane, 
headed by the Misses H. and R. Father rushed to 
the cellar and appeared with a large basket of ap- 
ples, which went the rounds with much effect. The 
light infantry formed in a semi-circle, and was 
watered by the matron and maids. It was really a 
pretty sight — these seventy children loaded with 
wreaths and flowers, standing under the elm in 
the sunshine, singing in full chorus the song I 
wrote for them [to the tune of ' Wait for the 
Wagon']." 

Here are the first and the last verses, but we may 
be sure that all four were sung wath a will by the 
light-hearted little group. 

The world lies fair about us, and a friendly sky above, 
Our lives are full of sunshine, our hearts are full of love; 
Few cares or sorrows sadden the beauty of our day. 
We gather simple pleasures, like daisies by the way. 

Oh! sing with cheery voices, 

Like robins on the tree; 

For little lads and lasses, 

As blithe of heart should be. 

There's not a cloud in heaven, but drops its silent dew, 
Nor violet in the meadow, but blesses with its hue; 
Nor happy child in Concord, who may not do its part, 
To make the great world better, by innocence of heart. 



122 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Oh, blossom in the sunshine, 
Beneath the village tree; 
For little lads and lasses 
Are the fairest flowers we see. 



" It was a neat little compliment to the Superin- 
tendent and his daughter," goes on Louisa in her 
bulletin to Anna, " who was glad to find that her 
' pome ' was a favorite among the ' lads and lasses ' 
who sang it ' with cheery voices like robins on the 
tree.' Father put the finishing stroke to the spec- 
tacle, by going off at full speed, hoppity-skip, and 
all the babes followed in a whirl of rapture at the 
idea. He led them up and down, and round and 
round, until they were tired; then they fell into 
order, and with a farewell song, marched away. 
seventy of the happiest little ones I ever wish to 
see." 

She goes on to tell of a reception given to John 
Brown's widow, his widowed daughter-in-law, and 
his little grandson. The hospitable Alcotts made 
preparations for twenty at the most, but when forty 
came, she says " our neat little supper turned out a 
regular * tea fight.' We got through it," she con- 
cludes, in her letter to Anna, " but it was an awful 
hour; and Mother wandered in her mind, utterly 
lost in a grove of teapots, while B. pervaded the 
neighborhood, demanding hot water, and we girls 
sowed cake broadcast through the land." 

She continues with her description: 



THE SIGN OF THli HORSESHOE. 123 

" When the plates were empty and the teapots 
dry, people wiped their mouths and confessed at last 
that they had done. A conversation followed in 
which . . . Uncle and Father mildly upset the 
world; . . . then some Solomon suggested that the 
Alcotts must be tired, and everyone departed but C. 
and S. We had a polka by Mother and Uncle, the 
lancers by C. and B., an etude by S., after which 
scrabblings of feast appeared, and we ' drained the 
dregs of every cup,' all cakes and pies we gobbled 
up, then peace fell upon us and our remains were 
interred decently." 

With all her festive soul Louisa loved entertain- 
ments, whether public or private. She wrote a song 
for her father's annual school festival. " Father 
got up the afifair," she says in her journal, " and 
such a pretty affair was never seen in Concord be- 
fore. He said : * We spend much on our cattle and 
fiower shows, let us each spring have a show of our 
children, and begrudge nothing for their culture.' 
The schools all met in the hall, four hundred strong, 
a pretty posy-bed with a border of proud parents 
and friends. Father was in glory, like a happy 
shepherd with a flock of sportive lambs; for all did 
something. Each school had its badge — one pink 
ribbons; one, green shoulder-knots; one, wreaths of 
pop-corn on the curly pates. One school to whom 
Father had read ' Pilgrim's Progress ' told the 
story, one child after the other popping up to say 
his or her part, and at the end a little tot walked 



124 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

forward, saying with a pretty air of wonder : * And 
behold, it was all a dream ' ! " 

The children surprised Mr. Alcott on this oc- 
casion with a gift of George Herbert's " Poems " 
and " Pilgrim's Progress," beautifully bound, as a 
token of their love and respect, so, as Louisa said, 
" the Alcotts were uplifted in their vain minds," 
It is wonderful the hold " Pilgrim's Progress " al- 
ways has on the minds of children ; the little Alcott 
girls had heard the tale from babyhood, and to every 
Concord child who came under Mr. Alcott's inspec- 
tion, the story was as familiar as the alphabet. 

About this time the town was wild with what 
Louisa called " the gymnastic fever." " Everyone," 
she says, " has become a perambulating windmill." 
It attacked the young people fiercely. The boys, no 
doubt, thought it fine training for the future 
soldiers, and the girls approved of it because they 
wanted to show that Concord had as much muscle 
as brain. She tells about this popular craze in one 
of her stories, " The King of Clubs and the Queen 
of Hearts," which is the romance of the leader of 
the gymnasium, and a very graceful, active young 
pupil. Her opening description of an evening class 
is vivid and amusing: 

" Five and twenty ladies, all in a row, sat on one 
side of the hall, looking very much as if they felt 
like the little old woman who fell asleep on the 
king's highway, and awoke with abbreviated drap- 
ery, for they were all arrayed in gray tunics, and 



THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 125 

Turkish continuations, profusely adorned with 
many-colored trimmings. Five and twenty gentle- 
men, all in a row, sat on the opposite side of the 
hall, looking somewhat subdued, as men are apt to 
do, when they fancy they are in danger of making 
fools of themselves. They also were in costume, 
for all the dark ones had grown piratical, in red 
shirts, and the light ones, nautical, in blue, while 
a few boldly appeared in white, making up in starch 
and studs what they lost in color, and all were more 
or less Byronic as to collar. 

" On the platform appeared a pile of dumb-bells, a 
regiment of clubs, and a pyramid of bean-bags, and 
stirring nervously among them, a foreign-looking 
gentleman, the new leader of a class lately formed 
by Dr. Thor Turner, whose mission it was to 
strengthen the world's spine and convert it to a 
belief in air and exercise by setting it to balancing 
its poles, and spinning merrily while enjoying the 
* sun-cure ' on a large scale." 

" Abby and I are among the pioneers," she writes 
further in her journal, " and the delicate vegetable 
productions," meaning the Alcott girls who never 
ate meat, " clash their cymbals in private, when 
the beef-eating young ladies faint away." 

The Orchard House guests came thick and fast, 
and people of note began to find out the quiet 
Alcotts and enjoy visiting them. " Saturday," 
writes Louisa to her aunt, Mrs. Bond, " we had J. 
G. Whittier, Charlotte Cushman, Miss Stebbins, the 



126 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

sculptress, and Mr. Stuart, conductor of the under- 
ground railroad of this charming free country; so 
you see our humble place of abode is perking up, 
and when the great ' authoress and artist ' are fairly 
out of the shell, we shall be an honor to the com- 
munity and a terror to the foe." 

After Anna's wedding, Louisa ran up to Boston 
to see the little farce she had written so many years 
ago, presented at last at the Howard Athenaeum. 
She sat proudly in a box, and a bouquet was handed 
to the author, but it was not well acted after all the 
waiting, much to her disappointment, so she turned 
to her stories with redoubled vigor. The Atlantic 
took a great many, and the steadily increasing pay 
was very encouraging; it was delightful to feel that 
when " Plato needed new shirts, and Minerva a 
pair of boots, and Hebe a fall hat " she had only to 
write a story with those praiseworthy objects in 
view, and behold! they would appear. But there 
was nothing as yet in these numerous efforts to 
secure any lasting fame. 

In August, i860, she began to write " Moods." 
She was full of it, and " genius burned " so fiercely 
that for four weeks she wrote all day long, and 
planned all night long, and seemed perfectly happy 
when at last the rough copy of the book was " put 
away to settle." Mr. Emerson offered to read it, 
but the manuscript was not ready for inspection. 

In October she writes : " I went to Boston and 
saw the Prince of Wales trot over the Common 



THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 127 

with his train at a review, a yellow-haired laddie 
very like his mother. Fanny W. and I nodded and 
waved as he passed, and he openly winked his boy- 
ish eye at us, for Fanny with her yellow curls and 
wild waving looked rather rowdy, and the poor lit- 
tle prince wanted some fun. We laughed and 
thought we had been more distinguished by the 
saucy wink than by a stately bow. Boys are always 
jolly — even princes." 

About this time Mrs. Alcott paid a visit to her 
brother, and Louisa was left housekeeper. With her 
usual energy she gave her whole mind to her home 
duties and " dreamed dip-toast, talked apple-sauce, 
thought pies, and wept drop-cakes." Anna came 
up to cheer her in her struggles, and " Moods " was 
brought out, read, laughed and cried over. " So I 
felt encouraged," writes Louisa, " and will touch it 
up when duty no longer orders me to make a burnt- 
offering of myself." 

Her twenty-eighth birthday she celebrated at 
home with her father, and they exchanged gifts. 
He gave her Emerson's picture, and she gave him 
a ream of paper, so both were pleased. 

May, the luck child, received a gift of money for 
drawing lessons, so she went to Boston to take them. 
" She is one of the fortunate ones and gets what she 
wants easily," writes Louisa. " I have to grub for 
my help or go without it. Good for me. doubt- 
less, or it wouldn't be so; so cheer up, Louisa, and 
grind away ! " 



128 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

May's good fortune still continued ; she wanted 
to go to Syracuse to teach, and was able to secure 
a position at once. Louisa dropped everything to 
" sew like a steam-engine " getting her ready, and 
went to Boston with her to see her safely on her 
way. From that time these two sisters drew very 
close together. Louisa's big heart ached for some- 
thing to take care of, to fill the place made vacant 
by Elizabeth's death. She was proud of May's 
talent and of her social success, gloried in her grace 
and beauty, and, as usual, forgot herself in working 
for others. 

Emerson invited her to his class when they met 
to talk on genius, and Louisa was much pleased at 
the honor, " as all the learned ladies go." She was 
also asked to the John Brown meeting, but she did 
not go though she sent a " pome " instead, which 
was published in the paper. " Not good," she 
writes, " I'm a better patriot than poet, and couldn't 
say what I felt." 

The following Christmas was very quiet. " No 
merry-making; for Nan and May were gone, and 
Betty under the snow. But we are used to hard 
times, and as Mother says : ' while there is a famine 
in Kansas, we mustn't ask for sugar-plums.' All the 
philosophy in our house is not in the study ; a good 
deal is in the kitchen, where a fine old lady thinks 
high thoughts and does fine deeds while she cooks 
and scrubs." , 

Early in January she started work on a new book. 



THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 129 

" Success " she called it at first, but ten years later 
when it made its bow to the public, it was called 
" Work." Uufortunately she had scarcely started 
when Mrs. Alcott had another severe illness, so 
Louisa corked up her inkstand and turned nurse. 
Alas ! it was not the time of fountain pens — or even 
of decent steel ones — else we might have found this 
energetic young woman, with pad upon her knee, 
scribbling away in the " wee sma' hours " at the 
invalid's bedside. However, Mrs. Alcott's strong 
constitution pulled her through safely, and the 
household rejoiced. 

" Father had four talks at Emerson's," she writes 
a little later. " Good people came and he enjoyed 
them much ; made thirty dollars ; Emerson probably 
put in twenty. He has a sweet way of bestowing 
gifts — on the table, under a book, or behind a 
candlestick, when he thinks Father wants a little 
money and no one will help him earn. A true friend 
is this tender, illustrious man." 

In February, 1861, she started again on 
" Moods "; she worked from the second to the 
twenty-fifth, scarcely stopping to eat or drink. 
Sleeping was impossible, and for three days she did 
not even take time to get up in the morning, but 
wrote, wrote, wrote, scattering papers like a bil- 
lowy sea around her. On these days she wore a 
green silk cap with a red bow, and an old green and 
red party wrap, which she wound around her as a 
" glory cloak." She could not eat regularly, so her 



130 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

mother brought her cups of tea, and her father red 
apples and his very best cider, while she scribbled 
on in her " grove " of manuscripts, " living for im- 
mortality " as May said. Concord was having its 
winter fun, but little she cared; when in a " vor- 
tex," nothing mattered. 

This sort of thing could not go on forever ; even 
Louisa's hardy frame broke down. Her head was 
dizzy, her legs shaky, and there was no sleep for 
the rampant busy mind, so she dropped her pen, 
" took long walks, cold baths, and had Nan up to 
frolic with me. Read all I had done to my family, 
and father said : * Emerson must see this. Where 
did you get your metaphysics ? ' Mother pro- 
nounced it wonderful, and Anna laughed and cried 
as she always does over my works, saying : * My 
dear, I'm proud of you.' So I had a good time, 
even if it never comes to anything, for it was worth 
something to have my three dearest sit up till mid- 
night, listening with wide-open eyes to Lu's first 
novel." This home praise was very precious to her, 
and, one and all, they rallied around " Moods," in- 
sisting on its greatness through all its subsequent 
trials. For years Louisa wrestled with this, her pet 
child, loved more tenderly after each cuff the cruel 
world gave it. In " Little Women " we cannot 
help sympathizing with poor Jo, who " with Spar- 
tan firmness laid her first-born on the table and 
chopped it up as ruthlessly as any ogre. In the hope 
of pleasing everyone, she took everyone's advice; 



THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 131 

and, like the old man and his donkey in the fable, 
suited nobody." 

" Her father liked the metaphysical streak which 
had unconsciously got into it, so it was allowed to 
remain though she had her doubts about it; her 
mother thought there was a trifle too much descrip- 
tion; out, therefore, it nearly all came, and with it 
many necessary links in the story. Meg admired 
the tragedy; so Jo piled up the agony to suit her; 
while Amy objected to the fun, and with the best 
intentions in life, Jo quenched the sprightly scenes, 
which relieved the somber character of the story. 
Then, to complete the ruin, she cut it down one 
third, and confidingly sent the poor little romance 
like a picked robin, out into the big, busy world, to 
try its fate. 

" Well, it was printed, and she got three hun- 
dred dollars for it; likewise plenty of praise and 
blame, both so much greater than she expected that 
she was thrown into a state of bewilderment, from 
which it took her some time to recover." 

Up to this time, Louisa had succeeded so well 
with her shorter romances that she fondly believed 
her highest ambition would be gratified in writing 
a novel. Her plot is interesting enough, her writing 
is excellent, but no one should read " Moods " by 
way of introduction to Miss Alcott. There is not 
a natural character in the story. Sylvia, the heroine, 
the child of moods, was intended by Miss Alcott 
to be a portrait of herself; but any two beings more 



132 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

unlike than the willful, beautiful, unreasonable, wild 
little Sylvia, and the sane practical, dependable, self- 
reliant Louisa, could scarcely be conceived; their 
ideas of right and wrong were totally opposed. 
Louisa had moods it is true, but she also had the 
power to suppress them, so that they should not 
cause unhappiness to others, and just as Jo met 
Apollyon in " Little Women," so Louisa wrestled 
with her darker self; but Sylvia never wrestled — 
she let herself go, and dragged others with her. 

The only point of resemblance between the two 
girls was in their remarkable dramatic gift; Sylvia 
being even more talented than Louisa, if we can 
believe the too-partial author. At any rate the book 
is not the wholesome food Miss Alcott usually gives 
us, and though it was her first effort and was 
counted praiseworthy by many, it should be read 
among the last of her works by those who truly 
wish to know her at her best. 

Louisa's heroines had a strong leaning to the 
stage, which was very natural, all things considered. 
Even her last book, " Jo's Boys," contains a stage- 
struck little Josie, who is a more lifelike image 
of Louisa in her youth than many of her earlier 
portraits. She saw herself and her simple efforts 
more clearly in her later years, when her dramatic 
ambition was a thing of the past. 

For a time " Moods " was laid away to " sim- 
mer," for in April, war was declared between the 
North and South, and Concord sent her company 



THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 133 

of soldier boys to Washington. " A busy time get- 
ting them ready," writes Louisa, " and a sad day 
seeing them off, for in a little town like this we all 
seem one family in times like these. At the sta- 
tion, the scene was very dramatic as the brave boys 
went away, perhaps never to come back again. I've 
often longed to see a war, and now I have my 
wish. I long to be a man; but as I can't fight, I 
will content myself with working for those who 
can." 

John Brown's daughters came to board with them 
at a time when Louisa's head was crammed with 
stories and plots, and she was forced to lay aside 
her pen and turn to housekeeping. It was a great 
disappointment, but she " had it out " with herself 
up in the garret, on her favorite fat rag-bag, and 
felt better when her " fit of woe " was over. 

Her little spare time was spent in sewing for 
the soldiers, with an occasional run into Boston or a 
visit to Anna in the " dove-cot " in Chelsea. May 
came home in July, delighted with her first year's 
experience, and lucky in securing a position as draw- 
ing teacher in Sanborn's school for the coming year. 
It was a delight to Louisa to have her home for 
many reasons ; she had a great flow of spirits, and 
her social graces made her quite a belle. This 
brought a great deal of outside life and breeziness 
into the old house, and gave Louisa many a chance 
to run away when the restless spirit urged her. In 
1862, at the suggestion of Elizabeth P. Peabody, 



134 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

she was persuaded to open a kindergarten in Bos- 
ton. It was her last venture in teaching, and under- 
taken very much against her will, out of friendship 
for Miss Peabody, and a very natural desire to make 
money. But it was too early for kindergartens; 
parents had not yet learned their value for very 
little children, and Louisa found it hard, unprofita- 
ble work, for the school did not make enough to 
pay her board and an assistant she was forced to 
have. 

She went to and from Concord each day ; whether 
walking or riding, it made no difference, forty miles 
a day was dull work, but home was at the end of 
the struggle, which was some comfort at least. In 
April she writes : " I gave it up, as I could do so 
much better at something else. May took my place 
for a month, that I might keep my part of the 
bargain; and I cleaned house and wrote a story, 
which made more than all my months of teach- 
ing. They ended in a wasted winter and a debt 
of forty dollars — to be paid if I sell my hair to 
do it." 

This forty dollars had been advanced to her for 
school fittings, by Mr. Fields of Boston, who rubbed 
her up the wrong way by remarking : " Stick to 
your teaching; you can't write." She replied with 
her customary spirit : " I won't teach ; and I can 
write, and I'll prove it." 

She saw a good deal of Boston society that win- 
ter, but the " great beings " did not impress her. 



THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 135 

<^She had lived too much in the fine Concord atmos- 
phere to be caught by mere social glitter/ and she 
found out, too, that in many cases she was asked 
to visit people because of her power to entertain 
them, which independent Louisa resented with all 
her honest soul. 

Mr. Lowell's praise of the tales she sent to the 
Atlantic always tuned her up to higher efforts; they 
were never great efforts, but as she says in her 
journal: "I enjoy romancing to suit myself; and 
though my tales are silly, they are not bad ; and my 
sinners always have a good spot somewhere. I hope 
it is good drill for fancy and language, for I can 
do it fast; and Mr. Lowell says my tales are so 
* dramatic, vivid, and full of plot,' they are just 
what he wants." 

There were very few writers of short stories in 
those times, and very few magazines which accepted 
such wares; the weeklies took tales of adventure 
and romance, such as Louisa wrote in her young 
enthusiasm, but short-story writing in itself was 
not the art it is to-day, and Miss Alcott's early 
contributions, while much better than the average 
story of that period, fall far short of the average 
story of the present. She was quick enough to feel 
this herself, but the editors were only too anx- 
ious to get stories of earnest purpose and real 
people. 

September and October were uneventful months; 
working for the soldiers, writing thrilling tales in 
10 



136 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

a state of suppressed excitement, for the war news 
was bad, " Anxious faces, beating hearts, and busy 
minds," she writes. " I like the stir in the air and 
long for battle, like a war-horse when he smells 
powder. The blood of the Mays is up ! " 

Her thirtieth birthday in November occurred at 
home, in the midst of preparations for any sudden 
call to Washington, whither she had decided to go 
as a hospital nurse. This was, though she never 
dreamed it at the time the turning-point in her 
career. 

On this particular occasion her friends, far and 
near, remembered her birthday with loving gifts. 
Her neighbors, the Hawthornes, with whom, from 
the oldest to the youngest, she was a great favorite, 
sent her a package, for which she thanked them in 
the following verses : 

The Hawthorne is a gracious tree, 

From latest twig to parent root, 
For when all others leafless stand, 

It gayly blossoms and bears fruit. 
On certain days a friendly wind, 

Wafts from its spreading boughs a store 
Of canny gifts that flutter in, 

Like snowflakes at a neighbor's door. 

The spinster who has just been blessed, 
Finds solemn thirty much improved 

By proofs that such a crabbed soul 
Is still remembered and beloved. 



THE SIGN OF THE HORSESHOE. 137 

Kind wishes "Ancient Lu" has stored 
In the "best chamber" of her heart, 

And every gift on Fancy's stage, 
Already plays its little part. 

Long may it stand, the friendly tree, 

That blooms in Autumn and in Spring, 
Beneath whose shade the humblest bird 

May safely sit, may gratefully sing. 
Time will give it an evergreen name. 

Age cannot harm it — frost cannot kill; 
With Emerson's pine and Thoreau's oak. 

Will the Hawthorne be loved and honored still! 

When the call came at last, all Concord was as 
much excited as if a real company of soldiers was 
marching to battle, and indeed it was heroic of 
Louisa, though she would have been the last person 
to place herself upon a pedestal. It meant a sacri- 
fice of health and strength, but no thought of self 
would have held her back. She gave what she had 
to give and gave it gladly. " I am sending my only 
son to the war," said her father, and truly a son's 
heart beat courageously under the despised " bib 
and tucker," as Louisa set out on her perilous 
journey. 



CHAPTER IX. 



LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 




ERTAINLY never until the moment of 
starting did the full meaning of the 
word separation dawn upon Louisa. 
The summons from Washington came 
on December nth, and the new nurse was ordered 
to start for Georgetown the very next day and re- 
port at the Union Hotel Hospital, where there was 
a vacancy. It was a hard post, but though disap- 
pointed at not being called to Washington, Louisa 
had no idea of drawing back. This offer of her 
services came from her heart; it was a bit of her 
religion and her patriotism, and so she and her 
family and friends fell to work on final prepara- 
tions, with all the enthusiasm that Concord and 
its surroundings could produce. May and young 
Julian Hawthorne were to be the guards of honor 
to the depot, and when the last good-bys were 
said, and the last flutter of handkerchiefs was lost 
to view at the turn of the road, this brave young 
woman realized, as never before, what the parting 
meant to them all. She might never come back. 
The wards of the hospitals were deadly to many a 

138 



LOUISA TO THE FRONT. I39 

Strong" constitution, and the accommodations, even 
for the sick and wounded who needed immediate 
attention, were of the poorest. 

Mr. Alcott's philosophy, as sincere as it was wise, 
helped him truly in this painful hour. But the 
mother's full heart overflowed as she held this 
beloved daughter close. 

" How can I let you go ! " she cried in passionate 
protest, but the next moment the brave woman 
smiled through her tears. Louisa was her only 
" son," and she would have sent a dozen to the 
war if she had had them. " Go, and God be with 
you," she said, and so in the twilight of a muddy, 
dismal day Louisa and her escort tramped to the 
village depot, brave enough outwardly, but de- 
pressed in spirit. 

Had she been alone, Louisa might have shed a 
few natural tears, but May, who was very much 
in the same state, would have given way entirely 
at the first breakdown, and as Julian Hawthorne 
was only sixteen and much impressed by the hero- 
ism already displayed, both sisters were on their 
mettle, and the good-bys were said as simply and 
quietly as if the going of¥ as an army nurse were 
an ordinary occurrence. 

After a wearing day in Boston, rushing from 
pillar to post in search of a free pass, paying visits 
to interested relatives, calling for parcels here and 
there, dining in between, Louisa found herself at 
last seated in the car, waving good-by to a tearful 



140 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

group at the station as the train pulled out and she 
was fairly started on her pilgrimage. 

" A long journey," she calls it, from Boston to 
Washington, and it probably was, in those days of 
war and uncertain traffic. From Boston she went 
to New London, thence by the night-boat to Jersey 
City. She was not 3. traveler, having seldom ven- 
tured out of Massachusetts. Boats were " rare 
birds " to her, and remembering an old prediction 
that she " was born to be drowned," the idea of 
sleeping in a berth struck terror to her soul. She 
made all sorts of funny preparations in case of sud- 
den and immediate danger, and finally, as she tells 
us in " Hospital Sketches," remembering that at 
the swimming-school the fat girls always floated 
best, she pinned her hope of future safety to a 
certain plump old lady who shared the cabin with 
her. Boats were not arranged for pitching and 
tumbling as they are these days, when everything 
is fastened securely in place, and poor Louisa spent 
a restless night, between her fears and the noise 
made by the various articles constantly falling off 
the shelf at the foot of her bed. 

At seven the next morning she found herself in 
the cars again at Jersey City; very close, crowded, 
dingy cars, with a stove at one end, with swinging 
oil lamps, smoky and ill kept. Sometimes there was 
a water jar, but often a passenger had to look for- 
ward from station to station for an opportunity 
to quench his thirst. Everywhere was noise, bustle, 



LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 141 

and confusion, and comforts were not looked for 
in those war times. Indeed, Louisa was glad to 
have a seat to herself, whereon she could bestow 
the numerous bags and bundles with which she was 
laden. She did not reach Washington, which was 
the end of the railroad journey, until dark, having 
been two days and one night on the way from Bos- 
ton to Washington, a trip that can now be made in 
a day. 

Georgetown was only driving distance from the 
capital, and Louisa was very impatient to reach her 
destination. Signs of the war had met her every- 
where. There were military posts along the route; 
troops of soldiers were drilling and marching in the 
barren fields ; once she saw a body of cavalry prac- 
ticing in the open, and everywhere men's eager ex- 
cited voices talked of the last battle or the coming 
attack. 

At last they drove up before the door of the hos- 
pital, which loomed out of the darkness, with the 
Union flag flying high above it, and springing out 
of the carriage she ran up the steps with all the 
energy of her enthusiasm. As she passed beneath 
the frowning portals, she little knew that she had 
left outside forever the perfect health and the iron 
constitution that mere hardship and privation could 
never impair. But the bad ventilation, the poor 
food, accompanying the sleepless days and nights, 
and the pitiful plight of the wounded and dying, 
did their evil work in six weeks' time, when this 



-i 



142 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

bravest of soldiers was herself " ordered home on 
sick leave." 

No period of her life was richer in impressions, 
and up to that time no period of her life ever reaped 
a fuller harvest. Her diary, which she kept regu- 
larly, and the letters she sent home, were teeming 
with innumerable experiences and anecdotes, all 
written with her usual vigor and often full of 
pathos. What she wrote was kept, pieced together, 
and afterwards published by F. B. Sanborn in 
the Commonwealth, as a series of sketches which 
we know to-day under the title " Hospital 
Sketches." 

Hitherto her stories had been mere " pot-boilers," 
as she often called them — romantic tales, not always 
true to life, with sometimes almost impossible situa- 
tions, written, indeed, chiefly for the much-needed 
money. Now she had no thought of gain, gener- 
ously giving all that was best in her to a noble cause, 
she put life into the daily jottings which afterwards 
took such vivid shape. 

We follow Nurse Periwinkle in and out of the 
hospital wards, seeing with her eyes, hearing with 
her ears, knowing that all the sights and sounds 
are real, laughing with her, crying with her, mourn- 
ing with her, as she gently folds some dead sol- 
dier's quiet hands and cuts a lock of his hair for his 
mother or his wife. It was a hard life, but a rich 
one in many ways, and in spite of the trials it 
brought her, Louisa would not have given up that 



LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 143 

six weeks' experience for all the other years of her 
usefulness. 

She paints a fine picture of her first busy day at 
the hospital, when forty ambulances deposited their 
load of wounded soldiers, fresh from Fredericks- 
burg. Even in describing the horrors her rich 
humor breaks out, and we laugh blithely in the 
midst of our shuddering. The first duty of the 
nurses was to wash the dirty, bedraggled heroes. 
She was rather daunted when the head nurse issued 
the order, and says in her " Hospital Sketches " : 

" If she had requested me to shave them all, or 
dance a hornpipe on the stove-funnel, I should have 
been less staggered, but to scrub some dozen lords 
of creation at a moment's notice was really — 
really — However, there was no time for non- 
sense, and having resolved, when I came, to do 
everything I was bid, I drowned my scruples in my 
washbowl, clutched my soap manfully, and assum- 
ing a businesslike air, made a dab at the first dirty 
specimen I saw, bent on performing my task. . . . 
Some of them took the performance like sleepy chil- 
dren, leaning their tired heads against me as I 
worked, others looked grimly scandalized, and sev- 
eral of the roughest colored like bashful girls." 

It was among the first lot that Miss Alcott found 
her little sergeant. " Baby B." she called him, and 
paid many a glowing tribute in her " sketches " 
to this hero, who lost an arm and a leg in the scrim- 
mage. Then there was Billy, the twelve-year-old 



144 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

drummer-boy, and John, " the manliest man among 
my forty," says Nurse Periwinkle, a sturdy Vir- 
ginia blacksmith, shot in the back, to whom her 
heart went out; and many another Tom, Dick, and 
Harry, legless, armless, and otherwise maimed, 
looked upon the comely face of Nurse Periwinkle 
and blessed her as she moved from cot to cot. 

These tender stories of true life might well touch 
hearts of stone. A generation ago, perhaps, it was 
all too fresh in the minds of many, these simple de- 
tails of suffering and death ; but their children, and 
their children's children, whether from the North or 
the South, will find much of homely beauty in these 
records; there is no attempt at fine writing, which 
makes them all the stronger, but a sincere desire to 
show things as they really were in those sad war 
days, and surely never up to this time had finer 
work come from her pen. Perhaps the best of all 
were her lines on " Thoreau's Flute," composed in 
the hospital during the watches of the night, and, 
as usual, when she put her heart into a thing, it 
grew in beauty. This good friend of hers had died 
the May before, truly mourned by the many who 
knew and loved him. He was a great loss to Con- 
cord, among all people and classes, and on the day 
of his funeral throngs came to show their respect. 
His coffin was covered with wild flowers, and many 
beautiful things were said of him by his friends. 

After his death, his flute, which he played so 
sweetly, hung idle in his room, until one summer 



LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 145 

night a breeze stole through the window into the 
hollow of the flute, and " Thoreau's Voice " spoke 
to those who thought it stilled forever. The strange 
beauty of the idea took hold of Louisa, and the 
following exquisite lines show alike how well she 
loved him, how much she missed him, and how 
fondly she believed that Nature herself would cher- 
ish his memory : 

Thoreau's Flute. 

We sighing said, "Our Pan is dead; 

His pipe hangs mute beside the river; 

Around it wistful sunbeams quiver, 
But Music's airy voice is fled. 
Spring mourns as for untimely frost; 

The bluebird chants a requiem; 

The willow-blossom waits for him — 
The Genius of the wood is lost." 

Then from the flute, untouched by hands, 
There came a low harmonious breath: 
"For such as he there is no death; — 

His life the eternal life commands; 

Above man's aims his nature rose. 
The wisdom of a just content 
Made one small spot a continent, 

And turned to poetry life's prose. 

"Haunting the hills, the stream, the wild. 
Swallow and aster, lake and pine. 
To him grew human or divine — 

Fit mates for this large-hearted child. 



146 1.0UISA MAY ALCOTT 

Such hcHTiage Nature ne'er forgets, 
And yearly on the coverlid 
'Neath which her darling lieth hid, 

Will write his name in violets. 

" To him no vain regrets belong. 
Whose soul, that finer instrument. 
Gave to the world no poor lament, 

But wood-notes ever sweet and strong. 

O lonely friend! he still will be, 
A potent presence, though unseen — 
Steadfast, sagacious, and serene; 

Seek not for him — he is with thee." 

But it was not all sadness at the hospital; among- 
the convalescents, Louisa's healthful presence and 
cheery companionship did much to help the long 
days of waiting for discharge. She had come 
equipped with games and books for the amusement 
of her patients — her favorite Dickens among the lat- 
ter — and there were hilarious times in the old ward 
when Louisa read aloud or acted some favorite part 
in her own dashing way. It was certainly charac- 
teristic of this young woman of moods that, after 
breaking her heart and crying her eyes out in one 
ward, she would rush to her room, bathe her face, 
smooth her hair, catch up her Dickens, and fly to 
the other, whence in a few moments her voice rang 
out and the " boys' " hearty laughter chimed in. 

Small wonder, then, that the men adored her, 
that the nurses deferred to her, that the doctors de- 



LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 147 

pended on her, and so eager and enthusiastic was 
she over her work that she did not recognize when 
her own strength began to fail. It was for those 
around her to notice her lagging step, her loss of 
sleep and appetite, her feverish activity. 

The doctors ordered her off duty, mildly at first, 
and then commandingly, as advice seemed unheed- 
ed. But at last, as she tells us in " Hospital 
Sketches," Nurse Periwinkle surrendered. " I felt," 
she said, " if I didn't make a masterly retreat very 
soon, I should tumble down somewhere and have 
to be borne ignominiously from the field. My head 
felt like a cannon-ball; my feet had a tendency to 
cleave to the floor ; the walls at times undulated in a 
most disagreeable manner; people locked unnat- 
urally big; the very bottles on the mantelpiece ap- 
peared to dance derisively before my eyes. ... I 
resolved to retire gracefully if I must; so with a 
valedictory to my boys . . . and a fervent wish 
that I could take off my body and work in my soul, 
I ascended to my apartment, and Nurse P. was re- 
ported off duty." 

Even then she refused to be put on the sick list, 
but for days kept up, coughing and heavy-eyed, 
while a slow, unsubdued fever burned her flesh. 
The doctors saw her daily, tapped her lungs and 
shook their heads. At last Nurse Periwinkle " gave 
in." She says: "Hours began to get confused; 
people looked odd; queer faces haunted the room, 
and the nights were one long fight with weariness 



148 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

and pain. Letters from home grew anxious; the 
doctors Hfted their eyebrows and nodded omi- 
nously ; friends said, * Don't stay,' but the three 
months were not out, and the idea of giving up so 
soon was proclaiming a defeat before I was fairly 
routed ; so to all * Don't stays ' I opposed ' I wills,' 
until one fine morning a gray-headed gentleman 
rose like a welcome ghost on my hearth, and at 
sight of him my resolution melted away, my heart 
turned traitor to my boys, and when he said, ' Come 
home,' I answered, ' Yes, Father ' ; and so ended my 
career as an army nurse." 

Indeed, Nurse Periwinkle was dead and buried 
from that moment, and on her tombstone Louisa 
carved the following epitaph: 

Oh! lay her in a little pit, 
With a marble stone to cover it; 
And carve thereon a gruel spoon, 
To show a "nuss" has died too soon. 

She had only a confused idea of what happened 
afterwards; she remembered saying good-by to a 
great many people; rough hands gripped hers gen- 
tly, voices were broken, eyes were dimmed with 
tears as she passed out of the hospital. There 
were some who thought she would not live to get 
home, but Louisa herself thought nothing about it. 
Her father was with her, and his quiet serenity was 
something to be grateful for just now. She was 



LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 149 

too spent even to wonder how he had been able to 
pass hostile Hnes to get to her, as he did, in the 
very nick of time; but there he was; and she turned 
to him with a sigh hke a little child. 

How she got to Boston she never knew; there 
she had to stay overnight as she was too sick to 
keep on to Concord, and she had a dreadful time 
of it at her cousin's, Mr. Sewall's. The next day 
they got her home somehow, and the last thing she 
remembered was May's shocked face at the depot, 
and her mother's bewildered one at home. The doc- 
tors called her case typhoid pneumonia ; she \vas 
delirious for three weeks, while she hovered between 
life and death, and some of her fancies, though ap- 
palling at the time, were amusing for her to recall 
when the danger was past. 

" The most vivid and enduring," she writes, 
" was the conviction that I had married a stout, 
handsome Spaniard, dressed in black velvet, with 
very soft hands, and a voice that was constantly say- 
ing : * Lie still, my dear ' ! This was Mother, I sus- 
pect, but with all the comfort I often found in her 
presence, there was blended an awful fear of the 
Spanish spouse, who was always coming after me, 
appearing out of closets, in at windows, or threat- 
ening me dreadfully all night long. I appealed to 
the Pope, and really got up and made a touching 
plea in something meant for Latin, they tell me. 
Once I went to Heaven and found it a twilight place, 
with people darting through the air in a queer way : 



150 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

all very busy and dismal and ordinary. ... I 
found it dark and ' slow ' and wished I hadn't 
come. A mob at Baltimore breaking down the 
door to get me, being hung for a witch, burned, 
stoned, and otherwise maltreated, were some of my 
fancies." 

When she came to her senses and they told her 
how ill she had been, she thought it very curious, for 
she knew nothing of it. " Found a queer, thin, 
big-eyed face when I looked in the glass," she writes, 
" didn't know myself at all, and when I tried to 
walk, discovered that I couldn't and cried because 
my legs wouldn't go. . . . Never having been sick 
before, it was all very new and interesting when I 
got quiet enough to understand matters. . . . The 
old fancies still lingered, seeming so real, I believed 
in them, and deluded Mother and May with the most 
absurd stories, so soberly told that they thought 
them true. Dr. B. came every day and was very 
kind. Father and Mother were with me night and 
day, and May sang * Birks of Aberfeldie ' or read to 
me to while away the tiresome hours." 

What Louisa owed to this devoted father and 
mother there is no telling. Never did parents have 
their children's welfare more wholly and unselfishly 
at heart, and it is due to them, not only that Louisa 
pulled through this terrible illness, but her great suc- 
cess as an author was the result of their entire 
unselfishness throughout her life. Mr. F. B. San- 
born says most truly in his " Life of Amos Bronson 



LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 1 51 

Alcott " : " Her [Louisa's] success had for its back- 
ground the whole generous past of her family, . . . 
for it was only as the historian of the household, 
the chronicler of their romantic and pathetic story 
that she could permanently touch the hearts of the 
public. . . . Nor did she achieve any marked suc- 
cess in her chosen vocation until she turned into 
cordial fiction the family life and the girlish senti- 
ments and adventures of the four sisters." 

So, nursed and coaxed back to life by loving care, 
Louisa began to mend, and at last crept around like 
a ghost of herself in caps, for they had cut off her 
beautiful hair and she mourned for it as truly as Jo 
did, when she sacrificed her chestnut mane for the 
good of her country. By March, 1863, she began 
to dust her books, clear out her piece-bags, and make 
shaky entries in her diary. She recalled and re- 
wrote her lines on " Thoreau's Flute," which Mrs. 
Hawthorne showed to Mr. Fields, then editor of 
the Atlantic. He was delighted with them and pub- 
lished them at once. They were much noticed and 
praised, " also paid for,'' writes Louisa, " and being 
a mercenary creature, I liked the ten dollars nearly 
as well as the honor of being * a new star ' and ' a 
literary celebrity.' " 

After the publication of " Thoreau's Flute," 

which like all other contributions to the magazine, 

was presented anonymously, Mr. Alcott chanced to 

be calling on Longfellow. On the poet's table lay 

a recent copy of the Atlantic. Longfellow opened 
11 



152 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

it and said : " I want to read you Emerson's fine 
poem on ' Thoreau's Flute,' " 

As he began to read Mr. Alcott interrupted him 
in great delight : 

" My daughter Louisa wrote that." 

In speaking of this to a friend, Louisa said : " Do 
you wonder that I felt as proud as a peacock when 
Father came home and told me? " 

On March 28, 1863, Anna's first boy came into 
the world and was warmly welcomed by his admir- 
ing family. " I wish you could have seen the per- 
formance on Saturday evening," writes Louisa, in a 
letter of congratulation to her sister. " We were 
all sitting deep in a novel, not expecting Father home 
owing to the snowstorm, when the door burst open 
and in he came, all wet and white, waving his bag 
and calling out : ' Good news ! Good news ! Anna 
has a fine boy ! ' With one accord we opened our 
mouths and screamed for about two minutes. Then 
Mother began to cry; I began to laugh; and May 
to pour out questions; while Papa beamed upon us 
all — red, damp and shiny, the picture of a proud 
old grandpa. Such a funny evening as we had! 
Mother kept breaking down, and each time emerged 
from her handkerchief saying solemnly : * I must 
go right down and see that baby ! ' Father had told 
everyone he met, from Mr. Emerson to the coach 
driver, and went about the house saying : * Anna's 
boy ! Yes, yes, Anna's boy ! ' in a mild state of 
satisfaction." 



LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 153 

Louisa and May taxed their brains for a name, 
and finally decided that Amos Minot Bridge Bron- 
son May Sewall Alcott Pratt would satisfy every 
branch of the family, and the result was that Freder- 
ick Pratt was the name of this important small per- 
son, who made such a stir in the waters of life 
when he rose to the surface. We have since met 
him many times, for this was the first of Louisa's 
" Little Men," and Dcuii, she tells us herself, was 
a faithful portrait of her own sturdy nephew. 

She took great delight in him, and sewed for him 
like his own special slave, rejoicing in her secret 
soul, no doubt, that he was a boy, for there had been 
girls enough in the Alcott family. 

Louisa spent the spring in getting back her 
strength. After the strenuous six weeks in Wash- 
ington, she was content to bask in the sunshine and 
be glad that she w^as alive. And after all, there is 
no spring so beautiful as a spring in Concord. A 
tangle of wild flowers perfumes the woods, and vio- 
lets cover the hillsides ; the giant trees are lovely in 
their pale green, backed by the deeper tints of the 
evergreens; the placid river ripples and sparkles in 
its joy of living, and whether the sun shines or the 
gentle rain comes down through a pearl-gray mist, 
the world is always lovely at this season, and Louisa 
" felt as if born again, everything seemed so beau- 
tiful and new." 

She now began to arrange her hospital letters for 
publication in the Commonwealth, at Mr. Sanborn's 



154 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

suggestion. She made three hospital sketches, 
which were written in story form. " Hospital 
Sketches " is all comprised in six chapters. The 
first two — " Obtaining Supplies " and " A Forward 
Movement "'■ — are mere explanations of how Nurse 
Perkvinkle got to the front. " A Day," " A 
Night," and " Off Duty " are the story portion of 
the " Sketches," possibly the three she made at 
first. The sixth chapter, " A Postscript," she added 
to please her many readers who cried for more. 
Letter-writing had come so naturally to her that 
she did not think much of these; she consented to 
have them published because she needed the money. 
Much to her surprise they made a great hit, es- 
pecially " A Night," into which it was plain she had 
put her whole heart. Famous people began to write 
her about them. Redpath, the publisher, offered 
to print them all in book form; and here Roberts 
Brothers first appeared on the scene; they, too, 
wanted the " Sketches," but Miss Alcott gave the 
preference to Redpath. 

" Short-sighted Louisa ! " she adds in her jour- 
nal, 1877. " Little did you dream that this same 
Roberts Bros, were to help you make your fortune 
a few years later. The ' Sketches ' never made 
much money, but showed me ' my style,' and taking 
the hint I went where glory waited me." 

Many good stories were the result of the hospital 
experience. Most of them were gathered into the 
" Camp and Fireside Stories " which were printed 



LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 155 

later in the same volume with " Hospital Sketches," 
though each one first appeared in prominent maga- 
zines. In October, 1863, she writes in her journal: 

" If ever there was an astonished young woman 
it is myself, for things have gone on so swim- 
mingly of late, I don't know who I am. A year 
ago I had no publisher and went begging with my 
wares; now three have asked me for something. 
Several papers are ready to print my contributions, 
and F. B. S. says : * Any publisher this side of Bal- 
timore would be glad to get a book ! ' This is a 
sudden hoist for a meek and lowly scribbler, who 
was told to ' stick to her teaching,' and never had a 
literary friend to lend a helping hand. Fifteen 
years of hard grubbing may be coming to some- 
thing after all, and I may yet ' pay all the debts, fix 
the house and send May to Italy, and keep the old 
folks cozy ' as I've said I would so long, yet so 
hopelessly." 

Indeed, her dream was beginning to take shape. 
Already she was giving May drawing lessons in an- 
atomy and fitting her out with pretty clothes, for 
she was very proud of her handsome, talented sis- 
ter, and was determined that she should wear noth- 
ing odd or out of taste if she could help it. Poor 
May, being the youngest, had been forced many a 
time to wear " handed-down " things, and Louisa 
has given a clever sketch of what agonies the artist 
soul went through in her description of Amy's woes 
in " Little Women." 



156 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

The New Year of 1864 dawned bright with 
promise. Redpath, who scented a fortune in the 
young authoress, heard of " Moods," and came 
hurrying to Concord to secure it for pubHcation, so 
the dear " first-born " was taken out again, chopped 
and pruned and sawed and hacked, but to no pur- 
pose ; poor " Moods " seemed to be a black sheep, 
a nc'er-do-weal in the family. Once more she put 
it on the shelf and went back to her short stories; 
the " blood-and-thunder " sort pleased best and the 
money they brought was very comforting. Some 
months later she wrote several chapters of " Work," 
getting along very well, when one night as she lay 
awake, an idea about shortening " Moods " popped 
into her head and she had no more sleep. The early 
morning saw her hard at work, and for two weeks 
after, she " hardly ate, slept, or stirred, but wrote, 
wrote like a thinking-machine in full operation. 
When it was all rewritten, without copying, I 
found it much improved, though I had taken out ten 
chapters and sacrificed many of my favorite things." 

However, through her friend, Mrs. D., she got a 
reading from A. K. Loring, the publisher, and one 
day as she sat on the floor putting down the parlor 
carpet, she received an enthusiastic letter from the 
publisher praising the book and promising to bring 
it out at once. The Alcott family immediately had 
a " rapture," and Louisa finished her work " double 
quick," regardless of weariness, toothache, or " blue 
devils." 



LOUISA TO THE FRONT. 157 

So with the end of the old year, 1864, " Moods " 
was at length cast upon the world. It came out 
on Christmas Eve, but it never was a luck child. 
It brought her much care, a bit of a heartache, sleep- 
less nights, wearing days, but rich experience, for 
she learned, after many trials, that truth in its sim- 
plest form is after all one's highest goal, and her 
efforts from that time on reached upward toward its 
unwavering light. 



CHAPTER X. 



RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 




FTER " Moods " was well off her mind, 
Louisa felt better and presented the 
volume to her mother on her sixty- 
fourth birthday with this inscription: 
'* To Mother, my earliest patron, kindest critic, dear- 
est reader, I gratefully and affectionately inscribe 
my first romance." She began to get a little more 
notice than she found quite comfortable; her 
friends' admiration was very precious to her, but 
when strangers invaded the premises and demanded 
to see the authoress, she turned thorny. " Admire 
the books, but let the woman alone, if you please, 
dear public ! " she wails in her journal. But this 
was only a foretaste of what she suffered in the 
years which followed. 

In spite of her success, money was still a rare 
and beautiful thing, and Louisa sent her " pot- 
boilers " a-fishing for it as often as ever, with, it 
must be owned, far greater success. The heads of 
the Alcott family being now above water, Louisa 
was fired on one special occasion with a praise- 
worthy desire to adorn them with bonnets; her in- 

iS8 



RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 159 

ventive mind found an outlet here as well as in 
story-writing, and the styles in the early sixties be- 
ing very pronounced and highly colored, this am- 
bitious milliner could give rein to her vivid imagi- 
nation. 

" My Lass," she writes to Anna in a burst of sis- 
terly confidence, " this must be a frivolous and 
dressy letter, because you always w^ant to know 
about our clothes, and we've been at it lately. 
May's bonnet is a sight for gods and men. Black 
and white outside, with a great cockade boiling over 
the front, to meet a red ditto surging from the in- 
terior, where a red rainbow darts across the brow, 
and a surf of white lace foams up on each side. 
I expect to hear that you and John fell flat in the 
dust with horror on beholding it. My bonnet has 
nearly been the death of me; for thinking some 
angel might make it possible for me to go to the 
mountains, I felt a wish for a tidy hat, after wearing 
an old one till it fell in tatters from my brow. Mrs. 
P. promised a bit of gray silk and I built on that ; 
but when I went for it I found my hat was built 
on sand, for she let me down with a crash, saying 
she wanted the silk herself, and kindly offering me 
a flannel petticoat instead. I was in woe for a 
spell, having one dollar in the world and scorning 
debt even for that prop of life — a * bonnet.' Then 
I roused myself, flew to Dodge, demanded her 
cheapest bonnet, found one for a dollar, took it, and 
went home wondering if the sky would open and 



l6o LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

drop me a trimming. I am simple in my tastes, 
but a naked straw bonnet is a little too severely 
chaste even for me. Sky did not open; so I went 
to the ' Widow Cruise's oil bottle/ my ribbon-box, 
which, by the way, is the eighth wonder of the 
world, for nothing is ever put in, yet I always find 
some old dud when all other hopes fail. From 
this salvation bin I extracted the remains of the old 
white ribbon (used up as I thought two years ago) 
and the bits of black lace that have adorned a long 
line of departed hats. Of the lace I made a dish 
on which I thriftily served up bows of ribbon, like 
meat on toast. Inside I put the lace bow which 
adorns my form anywhere when needed. A white 
flower, A. H. gave me, sat airily on the brim — fear- 
fully unbecoming, but pretty in itself and in keep- 
ing. Strings are yet to be evolved from chaos. I 
feel that they await me somewhere in the dim 
future. Green ones pro tern, hold this wonder of 
the age upon my gifted brow, and I survey my hat 
with respectful awe. I trust you will also, and 
see in it another great example of the power of 
mind over matter, and the convenience of a co- 
lossal brain in the primeval wrestle with the unruly 
atoms which have harassed the feminine soul ever 
since Eve clapped on a modest fig-leaf and did up 
her hair with a thorn for a hairpin." 

This letter was written from Concord and showed 
Louisa in one of her restless moods. The quiet 
place with its dull routine of housework was very 



RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. i6l 

trying at times. For days she would battle with 
her '* discontented mind," then a wild fit of energy 
would possess her, as on the day she did a big wash 
alone, baked, swept the house, picked the hops, got 
dinner, and wrote a chapter on " Moods," which 
would clear her sky wonderfully, though such ener- 
getic measures were constantly breaking her down. 
When there was work to be done, Louisa went at 
it with all her old vigor, forgetting that her hos- 
pital experiences had impaired her strength, re- 
membering this fact only at those times when she 
was " laid up for repairs." 

She was beginning to be genuinely tired of her 
" sensational rubbish " as she called the money- 
making " pot-boilers." There was something bet- 
ter to do with her gift of writing, if she could only 
strike out in the right direction. Her work was 
now carefully considered wherever she sent it, and 
she had a feeling always in her very earnest young 
soul that she would like to help the world in some 
small way, and send a little sunshine into the dark 
corners. The unexpected reception of her " Hos- 
pital Sketches " had the effect of spurring her on, 
and the birth of Oitr Young Folks, a Boston pub- 
lication, which in 1873 ^^'^^ bought by the vS"^. 
Nicholas Magazine, the rising juvenile periodical of 
the day, turned her thoughts finally in the right 
direction. She was asked to contribute stories, and 
her ever-ready mind jumped easily to the fairy 
tales which had been her delight when younger. 



l62 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

" Nellie's Hospital " was written at this time and 
was so much liked that many old tales and poems 
were dug up from the past, and Louisa let her 
lovers languish while she turned her attention to 
the children. Her " grown-up " stories were still 
eagerly called for and paid for. " An Hour " 
found a lodging in the Commonwealth. " Mrs. 
Todger's Teapot " was another excellent bit of 
work, a Christmas story of 1864. " Moods " sold 
very quickly at first, and brought her fame, recog- 
nition, and some money. In December, 1864, 
Nathaniel Hawthorne's death cast a gloom over the 
life at Concord. This quiet, shy scholar was much 
loved in his small circle, and it was his loss, added 
to her own restlessness, which made Louisa long for 
flight. 

The New Year of 1865 saw the war drawing to 
a close. Louisa's deep interest in the cause had 
not died out, but her health never allowed her to 
try hospital work again. She sewed zealously for 
the soldiers, attended meetings in their behalf, and 
on one occasion she dramatized six scenes from 
Dickens for a Benefit Fair in Boston. She took 
part and worked with all her might, clearing 
twenty-five hundred dollars for the fund. There 
were dances, fairs, masquerades and teas given in 
Concord for the Soldiers' Aid Society, in all of 
which she took an eager interest. 

Acting was then, as always, a pure delight to her, 
and these war times called for her services. The 



RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 163 

scenes from Dickens grew very popular, and her 
work in that Hne was always brilliant, because she 
loved it and threw herself into it heart and soul. 
On April 2d, Richmond fell, and on the 15th, in the 
midst of the rejoicing, came the news of Lincoln's 
assassination, and she joined in the nation's mourn- 
ing. After that, life glided very placidly, too plac- 
idly for restless Louisa, until June 24th, when an- 
other little nephew put new life and interest into 
the family. Coming as he did on Elizabeth's birth- 
day, he seemed to fill a void in their hearts. He 
was specially dear to Louisa, whose memory of her 
sister needed just such living comfort as little John 
could give. But the dreadful dullness weighed 
upon her. " Nothing stirring but the wind," she 
writes ; " nothing to see but dust ; no one comes but 
rose-bugs, so I grub and scold at the A., because 
it takes a poor fellow's tales and keeps 'em for years 
without paying for 'em. If I think of my woes, 
I fall into a vortex of debts, dish-pans and despon- 
dency awful to see. So I say ' every path has its 
puddle ' and try to play gayly with the tadpoles in 
fjiy puddle, while I wait for the Lord to give me 
a lift, or some gallant Raleigh to spread his velvet 
cloak and fetch me over dry-shod." 

She longed for the mountains as she longed for 
anything that would change the monotony, and 
many a dismal mood was worked off in her favorite 
hiding place — the old garret. In fancy we can see 
her curled up on the old discarded lounge, gazing 



l64 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

disconsolately at the falling summer rain as it 
splashed on the leaves of the giant trees that looked 
in at the windows, or pattered on the roof. It was 
doubtless on some such day that she wrote the poem 
which we find in " Little Women," with many im- 
provements and additions. 

Four little chests all in a row, 

Dim with dust and worn by time, 
All fashioned and filled long ago 

By children now in their prime. 
Four little keys hung side by side, 

With faded ribbons, brave and gay 
When fastened there with childish pride. 

Long ago on a rainy day. 
Four little names, one on each lid. 

Carved out by a boyish hand; 
And underneath there lieth hid. 

Histories of the happy band 
Once playing here and pausing oft 

To hear the sweet refrain. 
That came and went on the roof aloft, 

In the falling summer rain. 

Four little chests all in a row. 

Dim with dust and worn by time: 
Four women, taught by weal and woe 

To love and labor in their prime; 
Four sisters parted for an hour — 

None lost, one only gone before. 
Made by love's immortal power, 

Nearest and dearest evermore. 



RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 165 

Oh! when these hidden stores of ours 

Lie open to the Father's sight, 
May they be rich in golden hours — 

Deeds that show fairer for the light, 
Deeds whose brave music long shall ring, 

Like a spirit-stirring strain, 
Souls that shall gladly soar and sing 

In the long sunshine, after rain. 

She did not have to wait much longer for the lift 
she needed, for she writes : " Mr. W., hearing that 
I was something of a nurse and wanted to travel, 
proposed my going with his invalid daughter. I 
agreed, though I had my doubts. But everyone 
said ' Go,' and so after a week of worry I did go." 

They sailed July 19th for Liverpool, and here 
shone for Louisa the new light which was to guide 
her literary life. It was a ten days' voyage, and 
possibly not such a pleasant one as on the ocean 
liners of to-day, with all their comfort and mag- 
nificence. She was not sick, only " uncomfortable " 
as she expressed it, but she enjoyed the ever-chang- 
ing sea, the fine sunsets, even the sunrises, for being 
an enterprising young woman, we may be sure she 
was up early. There were fogs, and icebergs, rain- 
storms and summer calms, all of which were most 
interesting and instructive, but she was glad to get 
to Liverpool, on solid earth again, then on to 
London. 

Of this first trip abroad she has left but a frag- 
mentary record; a few jottings in her journal and 



l66 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

a few facts scattered here and there among her 
stories. The account in " Little Women " of 
Amy's trip abroad, is certainly her own experience, 
with the " story " part left out ; but we glean from 
her journal that the " four dull, drizzling days " 
spent in London were most depressing. She went 
to the parks, Westminster Abbey, and the famous 
streets she had read about in English novels. From 
London they went to Dover, then by steamer to 
Ostend. Louisa was ill all the way, and " saw 
nothing but a basin." Here they rested two days, 
enjoying their first glimpse of foreign life and 
fashion. A peep at Brussels made her wish for 
more, but the invalid's destination was Schwalbach, 
where she meant to take the baths, so their journey 
across country was somewhat hurried. 

Miss Alcott writes in her journal : " On the I2th 
[of August] began a lovely voyage up the Rhine. 
It was too beautiful to describe, so I shall not try; 
but I feel richer and better for that memorable day. 
We reached Coblentz at sunset, and I was up half 
the night enjoying the splendid view of the fortress 
opposite the moonlit river with its bridges of boats, 
and troops crossing at midnight. 

" A second day, still more charming, took us 
through the famous parts of the Rhine, and filled 
my head with pictures that will last all my life." 

There is no telling what this year of travel meant 
to Louisa, coming as it did when her mind cried 
out for a change of some sort. Her beauty-loving 



RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 167 

nature craved something more than quiet Concord 
and its surroundings, and this progress through the 
Rliine country, with its legends and folk tales, was 
the very l)est tonic for her. 

They passed through a number of queer little vil- 
lages before reaching Schwalbach, where they rest- 
ed a month and took the baths, and when the invalid 
got a little stronger they went to Vevey, of which 
we hear so much in " Little Women." On the 
way they stopped at Wiesbaden, then at Frankfort. 

" Here I saw and enjoyed a good deal," she writes. 
" The statues of Goethe, Schiller, Faust, Gutenberg, 
and Schaeffer are in the squares. Goethe's house 
is a tall, plain building, with each story projecting 
over the lower, and a Dutch roof; a marble slab 
over the front door recording the date of Goethe's 
birth. I took a look at it, and wanted to go in, as it 
was empty, but there was no time. Some Ameri- 
cans said : ' Who was Goethe to fuss about ? ' " 

This to Louisa, who as a girl had worshiped 
him and Emerson ! She was enthusiastic over 
Heidelberg, and gives us pretty pen pictures of the 
charming old place, surrounded by mountains. 
From Heidelberg to Baden-Baden, Freiberg, Basle, 
and on the way to Berne she caught her first glimpse 
of the Alps, on her mother's birthday, October 8th. 

'' Tall, white, spectral shapes they were, tower- 
ing above the green hills and valleys that lay be- 
tween. Clouds half hid them, and the sun glittered 
on the everlasting snow that lay on their tops. 
12 



1 68 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Sharp, strange outlines against the sky they be- 
came as night came on, and in the morning I had 
a fine view of the Jungfrau, the Bliimis, the Wetter- 
horn, and Monch from the terrace at Berne." 

From Berne they went to Freiberg No. 2, a most 
romantic spot, with its winding river, suspension 
bridges, steep hills, and) watch towers. The next 
stop was in Lausanne, and finally they reached 
Vevey, having enjoyed a fine panorama of this 
wonderful little Switzerland. 

At Vevey there came to Louisa a pleasant expe- 
rience, something very sweet and beautiful in the 
way of friendship between a grown woman and a 
fine young fellow, which she has generously shared 
with a world of young readers. The boy in ques- 
tion was named Ladislas Wisniewski — " two hic- 
coughs and a sneeze will give you the name per- 
fectly," she tells us, but she called him Laddie most 
of the time, and often Laurie, the name we have 
grown to love so much in " Little Women," 

He was a young Polish boy who had come to 
Vevey for his health, a tall, thin lad of eighteen or 
twenty, with an intelligent face and charming man- 
ners. Louisa's heart warmed to him at first be- 
cause he looked delicate. He had come to board 
in their pension, and the acquaintance began at the 
breakfast table, by a cough and a shiver. Louisa, 
full of sympathy, looked up quickly — ^he was sitting 
directly in a draught — while she, on the opposite 
side of the table, was absolutely roasting by the 



RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 169 

stove. She spoke to their landlady between meals, 
and at dinner their places were changed. The 
young stranger was quick to appreciate the kind- 
ness, and from that time the friendship grew. He 
could speak only broken English, but her friendly 
interest drew him out of his shell, and Louisa, so 
lately from scenes of war, found that he had been 
in the late Polish Revolution, had suffered impris- 
onment and hardship, losing friends, fortune, and 
health, for his lungs were in a bad state, but he was 
fighting bravely for life. 

All the pent-up tenderness and romance broke 
forth in Louisa's affection for this boy. Sternly 
she had dubbed herself an " old maid " from the 
mature age of twenty-five to the venerable state of 
thirty-three years. Yet no woman was ever more 
ardently beloved by her many boy admirers, and 
this one in particular was so open in his adoration 
that Louisa was both proud and touched. Had she 
been ten years younger and he ten years older, the 
flavor of romance might have been even stronger ; as 
it was, she played mother to him, and he called her 
his " little mamma " and made her his confidante. 
He asked her to call him " Varjo," as his mother 
did, and taught her French in return for her lessons 
in English. He played beautifully on the piano, and 
many a concert they had in the salon of the pension, 
He brought her flowers — late roses were blooming 
in Vevey — and there was always a bouquet ready 
for her at dinner. 



I70 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

She celebrated her thirty-third birthday at Vevey, 
and wrote in her journal : " A. gave me a pretty 
painting of Chillon, Ladislas promised me the notes 
of the Polish National Hymn, and played me his 
sweetest airs as a present, after wishing me ' all 
good and happiness on earth and a high place in 
Heaven as my reward.' It was a mild, windy day, 
very like me in its fitful changes of sunshine and 
shade. Usually I am sad on my birthday, but not 
this time; for, though nothing very pleasant hap- 
pened, I was happy and hopeful, and enjoyed every- 
thing with unusual relish. I feel rather old with 
my thirty-three years, but have much to keep me 
young, and hope I shall not grow older in heart as 
the time goes on." 

In December she adds : " Laurie very interesting 
and good. Pleasant walks and talks with him in 
the chateau garden and about Vevey. A lovely sail 
on the lake and much fun giving English and re- 
ceiving French lessons." 

In the first volume of " Aunt Jo's Scrap Bag " 
Miss Alcott devotes several pages of " My Boys " 
to this favorite boy of hers. " Lake Leman," she 
writes, " will never seem so lovely again as when 
Laddie and I roamed about its shores, floated on its 
bosom, or laid splendid plans for the future in the 
sunny garden of the chateau. I tried it again last 
year (1871), but the charm was gone, for I missed 
my boy, with his fun, his music, and the frank, 
fresh affection he gave his ' little mamma,' as he 



RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 171 

insisted on calling the lofty spinster, who loved 
him like half-a-dozen grandmothers rolled into 
one." 

She kept many mementoes of him — some De- 
cember roses and a pile of merry little notes, which 
she used to find tucked under her door. Better 
than all, she has made him live through time, and — 
but that is another chapter. 

Those few delightful weeks in Vevey drew^ to an 
end, and the travelers turned their faces to Nice, 
after an affecting parting from Laddie. Louisa 
hoped to meet him in Paris in the spring, but it was 
only a faint hope, for neither of them thought he 
would live through the winter. When they said 
" good-by," w^hich they tried to make an rcvoir, 
she tells us : " There were tears in my boy's eyes 
and a choke in the voice that tried to say cheerfully : 
* Bon voyage, dear and good little mamma. I do 
not say adieu, but an revoir.' 

" Then the carriage rolled away, the wistful face 
vanished, and nothing remained to me but the mem- 
ory of Laddie and a little stain on my glove where a 
drop had fallen." 

The stay in Nice is vividly described by Our 
Foreign Correspondent in " Little Women " — even 
the ball they went to at the pension where they 
boarded for a while. But they were lonely among 
so many foreigners from every part of the world, 
and finally tried housekeeping in an apartment, kept 
by one Madam Rolande, who for six years had been 



172 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

French governess to Queen Victoria's children. 
Here they were more comfortable; they had a jewel 
of a French maid and six nice, large rooms. 

There were beautiful drives about Nice and many 
sights to see. Here also was the lovely Valrosa, a 
villa in a rose garden, a dear old landmark of " Lit- 
tle Women." Indeed, Louisa popped the whole of 
this trip, plump and pat, into volume second. 

But at Nice she decided to start for home in May. 
Fond as she was of her invalid friend, she longed 
for a few weeks of absolute freedom, and on the 
first day of May started off for Paris, as happy as a 
released prisoner. 

To her great delight, at the station, waving his 
cap among the crowd, was Laddie, who took 
charge of her from that time until the day she left 
for London, and she says in " My Boys " : " Next 
day began the pleasantest fortnight in all my year 
of travel. Laddie appeared early, elegant to behold 
in a new hat and buff gloves, and was immensely 
amused because the servant informed me that my 
big son had arrived." 

They went shopping together, even to the milli- 
ner's — Louisa's extravagances always ran to bon- 
nets — where he placed his good French at her dis- 
posal. He was full of fun and up to all sorts of 
mischief. For instance, he made her call him ma 
drogha, saying it meant " my friend " in Polish. 
He introduced her to several young fellows of his 
own age, and she used the words before them inno- 



RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 173 

cently enough ; they flew into such a gale of merri- 
ment that she inquired the cause, and found that she 
had been calHng her Laddie " my darHng " in the 
most loving manner. Of course, being an old and 
proper spinster, she turned the color of a peony as 
she joined in the laugh at her expense. 

There was a very sober side to this boy of hers; 
a pathetic and hopeless little love story of two inno- 
cent hearts parted by stern parents, and this, too, he 
confided to the " little mamma," who loved him all 
the more for this shadow. The two weeks went all 
too quickly, the farewells had to come at last. 

" This time it is for always," said Laddie ; " so, 
as a parting souvenir, give to me the sweet English 
good-by." 

" As he said this, with a despairing sort of look, 
as if he could not spare even so humble a friend as 
myself, my heart was quite rent within me, and, 
regardless of several prim English ladies, I drew 
down his tall head and kissed him tenderly, feeling 
that in this world there were no more meetings 
for us. Then I ran away and buried myself in an 
empty railway carriage, hugging the little cologne 
bottle he had given me." 

Laddie wrote to her regularly for several years, 
and later sent his photograph with a few lines, but 
though she acknowledged it, she did not hear from 
him for so long that she feared this last and dearest 
of her boys was dead. She concludes the little story 
in this way : 



174 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

" It is hardly necessary to add, for the satisfac- 
tion of inquisitive Httle women, that Laddie was the 
original of Laurie, as far as a pale pen-and-ink 
sketch could embody a living, loving boy." 

She was anxious to get home, and hurried from 
Paris to London, where she went about a great 
deal, seeing sights and people, going to theaters, 
dinner parties, concerts, and receptions; she heard 
her beloved Dickens read, and received whole- 
souled English kindness from everyone. 

Early in June, she spent ten days in a real Eng- 
lish country house, which she greatly enjoyed. On 
the nth she went to board with a Mrs. Travers in 
Westbourne Grove Terrace. The household con- 
sisted of " Mrs. T. and daughter, two sisters from 
Dublin, and ten young men, barristers, clerks, 
ministers, and students. . . . Very free and jolly, 
roaming about London all day, dining late, and 
resting, chatting, music, or fun in the evening." 

That she saw everything that was to be seen, we 
learn from the following paragraph : " Saw the 
Tower, Windsor, parks, gardens, and all manner of 
haunts of famous men and women ; Milton's house, 
Johnson's, in Ball Court; Lamb's, Sairy Gamp's, 
Saracen's Head, the Charter House, where Thack- 
eray was when a lad; Furnival's Inn, where Dick- 
ens wrote " Pickwick " ; Bacon's Walk, and endless 
memorable sights. St. Paul's I liked better than 
Notre Dame." 

While in London, she saw Routledge about 



RECREATION AND A TRIP ABROAD. 175 

" Moods " ; he not only took it, but asked for an- 
other book, much to her dehght. Truth to tell, the 
last two months of her stay abroad was the period 
she most enjoyed. In the first place, she had no 
care nor responsibility ; in the second, she was given 
this freedom through the unselfishness of her 
mother, who borrowed money for the family sup- 
port, that Louisa might have enough of her own 
to finish the year's vacation. This was among the 
debts that the faithful daughter repaid, and surely 
this journey, of all others, was the golden key 
which opened the way. She left for Liverpool and 
home July 7th, and after a stormy voyage of four- 
teen days reached home at last, glad to be there, 
glad to see them all, feeling rested and improved in 
every way. 

The year had wrought many changes among 
those she loved. She found her mother looking 
worn and sick and tired, which troubled her greatly ; 
her father, placid as ever ; Anna, happy in her home, 
with two cunning boys, and May, radiant and full 
of plans and hopes. 

In August, she fell to work once more on her 
stories, for orders in plenty awaited her, and the 
family coffers were nearly empty. In September, 
poor Mrs. Alcott broke down completely ; the year's 
strain had been too much for her. Then Louisa 
" turned in," nursing by day and writing by night. 
By November, Mrs. Alcott was slowly mending, and 
Louisa writes : " I never expect to see the strong, 



176 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

energetic * Marmee ' of old times, but, thank the 
Lord ! she is still here, though pale and weak, quiet .mi 
and sad; all her fine hair gone, and face full of ^ 
wrinkles, bowed back, and every sign of age. Life 
has been so hard for her, and she so brave, so glad 
to spend herself for others. Now we must live for 
her." 

And from that moment Louisa did — all her en- 
ergy, all the best that was in her, bent to the serv- 
ice. In the long, fruitful years which followed, her 
dream came true, and " Marmee " had her sunny 
corner, her easy-chair, and the rest she had earned 
so nobly. 



CHAPTER XL 



LITTLE WOMEN. 




HE next year (1867) was spent by 
Louisa in making up for lost time and 
getting her " thinking cap " pinned on 
properly. Fortunately, many people 
wanted stories, and, as the family treasury was 
in a bad way, she set to work in earnest. Her time 
was taken up in caring for her mother, writing her 
stories, and keeping house. Her writing alone 
would have kept her busy enough, but her other 
cares told on her health, and so, after a year of hard 
labor to pay for the long vacation, she ran off to 
Clark's Island for a holiday during the month of 
August. She came back in September, bright and 
full of her old energy, after a jolly fortnight, and 
we find this trifling entry in her journal : 

" September, i86y. Niles, partner of Roberts, 
asked me to write a girls' book. Said I'd try. F. 
asked me to be the editor of Merry's Museum. Said 
I'd try. Began at once on both new jobs, but didn't 
like either." 

It was in this fashion that she treated a proposi- 
tion which was to hold so much for her in the 

177 



178 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

future. Of the two jobs, being editor of Merry's 
Museum meant more to her just then. She was to 
read manuscripts, write one story each month, also 
an editorial, for five hundred dollars a year. Quite 
joyful over the prospect of a settled income, she 
decided to take a room in Boston for the winter and 
set up housekeeping for herself. 

" Cannot keep well in Concord," she writes in 
October, " so must try Boston, and not work too 
hard." 

" On the 28th rode to B., on my load of furni- 
ture, with Fred, feeling as if I was going to camp 
out in a new country ; hoped it would prove a hos- 
pitable, healthy land." 

Those who have read " An Old-Fashioned Girl " 
will remember that when Polly came to town to 
teach music, she did very much the same thing. 

" You ought to have seen my triumphal entry 
into the city," she tells her friend Fanny Shaw, 
" sitting among my goods and chattels, in a farm- 
er's cart, ... on my little sofa, with boxes and 
bundles all around me, a birdcage on one side, a 
fishing basket, with a kitten's head popping in and 
out of the hole, on the other side, and jolly old Mr. 
Brown, in his blue frock, perched on a keg of apples, 
in front." 

She gives a very lively description of this ride, 
and the adventures of a certain squash pie, the gift 
of a neighbor, are faithfully recorded. Louisa was 
always ready for a " lark," and this novel way of 



"LITTLE WOMEN." 179 

moving from Concord to Boston was an idea after 
her own heart. The furniture received many 
bumps and scrapes in the jolting wagon ; the book 
shelves tumbled on their heads as they went down 
one hill, the rocking-chair slid off into the middle of 
the road as they creaked up another; but it was a 
jolly trip, and Louisa, who never did things quite 
like other people, enjoyed the fun immensely. 

Not that she was ever odd, but she was, like 
Polly, delightfully old-fashioned at times, and even 
at the sedate age of four-and-thirty could frolic like 
a girl. She set to work very much as Polly did 
with her simple housekeeping, and no doubt en- 
joyed it even more, for Louisa was now a young 
woman of some position in her world, while Polly, 
the modest little music-teacher, was quite unknown, 
save among her few friends. Her simple house- 
keeping, in her sunny room, was quite as interesting 
as in Polly's small establishment, and many a happy 
twilight was spent round her cheerful blaze, while 
she dispensed tea and buttered toast and made 
merry with her guests — her " hundred or more " 
cousins — who adored her. 

The winter in Boston passed happily, for May 
had a drawing-class in her room every day, so she 
was never lonely, and, as she was constantly called 
upon to act for charity, she had a very good time, 
for the old passion never quite died out. Dickens 
was always her delight, and " Mrs. Jarley's Wax 
Works " her special property. She gave it many 



l8o LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

times in public with much success. She worked 
faithfully as the editor of Merry's Museum, and 
sold her short stories as fast as she wrote them. 

" Things look promising," she wrote her mother 
in January, 1868. "... I am pretty well, and keep 
so busy I haven't time to be sick. Everyone is very 
clever to me, and I often think, as I go larking 
around, independent, with more work than I can do 
and half a dozen publishers asking for tales, of the 
old times when I went meekly from door to door 
peddling my first poor little stories, and feeling so 
rich with ten dollars. . . . 

" It's clear that Minerva Moody is getting on, 
and, by the time she's a used-up old lady of seventy 
or so, she may finish her job and see her family well 
off. . . . 

" Keep all the money I send ; pay up every bill ; 
get comforts and enjoy yourselves. Let's be merry 
while we may, and lay up a bit for a rainy day. 

" With which gem from Aristotle, I am, honored 
madam, your dutiful and affectionate 

" L. M. Alcott. 

" Regards to Plato. Doesn't he want new socks ? 
Are his clothes getting shiny ? " 

January began most happily; there was certainly 
something in the air that breathed of hope. 

" For many years we have not been so comfort- 
able," she says in her journal. " May and I both 
earning, Anna with her good John to lean on, and 



"LITTLE WOMEN." l8l 

the old people in a cozy home of our own. . . . 
To-day my first hyacinth bloomed, white and sweet 
— a good omen ; a little flag of truce, perhaps, from 
the enemies we have been fighting all these years. 
Perhaps we are to win, after all, and conquer pov- 
erty, neglect, pain, and debt, and march on, with 
flags flying, into the new world with the New 
Year." 

Still no sign of the promised story for girls. 
After the first trial it was evidently laid away and 
forgotten in the press of other work and a multi- 
tude of social duties, both pleasant and profitable. 

" My second hyacinth bloomed pale blue, like a 
timid hope," she v/rites on January 24th, " and I 
took the omen for a good one, as I am getting on, 
and have more than I can do of the work that I 
once went begging for. Enjoyed the little spring 
my little flower made for me, and Buzzy, my pet 
fly, moved into the sweet mansion from his hanging 
garden in the ivy pot." 

Her third hyacinth bloomed a beautiful pink on 
the 14th of February, Valentine's Day, and, as flow- 
ers always spoke to her in a sweet language of their 
own, she began the saint's day happily in her snug 
little room. She wrote her stories, made some 
shirts for her little nephews, and finally went out to 
buy a squash pie for her supper — it seems she had 
a passion for squash pies. But she was feeling tired 
and cross when, hugging her pie, she trudged home 
at dusk. It was snowing and very cold, and the 



l82 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

pie turned a somersault, much to the amusement of 
a small boy and ;Iiss Alcott herself, whose spirits 
rose at once. Arriving at home, she found her Val- 
entine in the shape of a gentleman waiting for her 
on her doorstep. 

" I took him up my winding stair," writes this 
ambitious young spider, " and found him a very 
delightful fly, for he handed me a letter out of 
which fell a hundred-dollar bill. With this bait, 
Mr. B. lured me to write ' one column of advice to 
young women.' ... If he had asked me to write a 
Greek oration, I would have said ' Yes.' So I gave 
a receipt, and the very elegant agent bowed himself 
away, leaving my ' 'umble ' bower full of perfume 
and my soul of peace. ... I planned my article 
while I ate my dilapidated pie, and then proceeded 
to write it — with the bill before me. It was about 
old maids. ' Happy Women ' was the title, and I 
put in my list all the busy, useful, independent spin- 
sters I know, for liberty is a better husband than 
love — to many of us. This was a nice little episode 
in my trials of an authoress, so I record it. 

" So the pink hyacinth was a true prophet, and I 
went to bed a happy millionaire, to dream of flannel 
petticoats for my blessed Mother, paper for Father, 
a new dress for May, and sleds for my boys." 

Had Louisa lived among us to-day, she would 
hardly have called herself an old maid at thirty- 
five. The athletic young woman of our time has 
just " got her growth " at that age. But, for all 



"LITTLE WOMEN." 183 

her love of boys, romance had never touched her 
very closely. She loved to see it in others and to 
write about it. She delighted in her sister's happy 
marriage, but would have none of it herself, though 
she played mother to the little lads in her best style, 
and sister, and even grandmother, to other boys, 
older still. The " mother feeling " of taking care 
of people was very strong in her; she was devotion 
itself to her sister Anna, whose growing deafness 
made her somewhat dependent. She writes in her 
journal ; 

" To Nan's in P. M. to take care of her while the 
papa and Freddie went to Concord. The dear lit- 
tle man, so happy and important, with his bit of a 
bag, six pennies, and a cake for refreshment during 
the long journey of an hour. We brooded over 
Johnnie as if he were a heavenly sort of fire to 
warm and comfort us with his sunny little face and 
loving ways. She is a happy woman ! I sell my 
children, and, though they feed me, they don't love 
me as hers do. Little Tranquillity played alone all 
day, and made a pretty picture sitting in ' mar- 
mar's ' lap in his nightgown, talking through the 
trumpet to her. She never heard his sweet little 
voice in any other way. Poor Nan ! " 

So the winter passed and the spring came, and 

still no girls' book. She had been at home since the 

end of February, having enjoyed the few months' 

rest in Boston, and, as usual, was finding it hard to 

write stories fast enough to please the publishers. 
13 



l84 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

In May, she sent her father to see Mr. Niles about 
a fairy book she proposed writing, but the stern 
publisher would have none of it. 

" A girls' book," he demanded, " and the sooner 
it is written the better." 

So, with a helpless shrug of her shoulders, 
Louisa set to work on " Little Women." 

" Marmee, Anna, and May all approve my plan," 
she writes. " So I plod away, though I don't enjoy 
this sort of thing. Never liked girls or knew many, 
except my sisters; but our queer plays and experi- 
ences may prove interesting, though I doubt it." 

" Good joke," writes Louisa, on looking over her 
journal many years later. She started writing in 
May, and by June had finished a dozen chapters. 
We can imagine her, as we have seen Jo herself 
in " Little Women," perched upon a high chair 
before an old-fashioned desk, with the light from 
her dormer window streaming full upon her paper, 
scratching away busily. We all remember the black 
pinafore and the cap with the rampant red bow. 
The hours flew by unheeded while Louisa dipped 
far back into her childhood, and was a child again, 
with Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy. And yet, when she 
sent these first twelve chapters to Mr. Niles, he 
called them dull, and she quite agreed with him. 

Think of the first chapter of " Little Women," 
brimming over with the doings of these four whole- 
some little girls, being thought dull by these foolish 
" grown-ups " — -the publisher and the author ! And 



"LITTLE WOMEN." 185 

the next chapter, the Christmas froHc and the 
" Witch's Curse," in all its dramatic glory, with Jo 
as the hero and the villain and all the other male 
parts she could whisk into at a moment's notice, and 
Meg as the witch, and Beth and Amy playing the 
smaller parts as best they could — this was called 
dull, too, by these shortsighted people. And all the 
other simple, wholesome, interesting chapters fare4 
no better. But, in spite of their misgivings, Louisa 
decided to keep on and try the experiment, " for 
lively, simple books are very much needed for girls, 
and perhaps I can supply the need." 

On July 15th, she finished the first volume of 
" Little Women," never indeed having any notion 
of writing another part, and she thankfully laid 
down her pen, for the strain had been great. On 
the same day she writes in her journal : " Have 
finished ' Little Women ' and sent it off — ^402 pages. 
May is designing some pictures for it. Hope it will 
go, for I shall probably get nothing for * Morning 
Glories.' " 

With the completed manuscript in his hands, Mr. 
Niles wisely decided not to trust his own judg- 
ment, and looked around for an abler critic. This 
he found in a small niece, and he left her curled up 
in a big armchair, with the closely written pages of 
" Little Women " in her eager hands. He peeped 
in every once in a while, but he did not disturb her, 
for the little girl was absorbed, forgetful of every- 
thing but the story, sometimes laughing aloud, 



l86 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

sometimes stopping to brush the tears away, but 
never Hfting her eyes from those fascinating pages 
until the last was laid down with a sigh of regret. 
She was an enthusiastic young person, and had 
nothing but praise for the story. Mr. Niles hesi- 
tated no longer. In August, Louisa writes : 

" Roberts Brothers made me an offer for the 
story, but at the same time advised me to keep the 
copyright; so I shall." 

Nearly twenty years later she adds : " An honest 
publisher and a lucky author, for the copyright 
made her fortune, and the ' dull book ' was the first 
golden egg of the ugly duckling." 

So the book was published, and Louisa jumped 
at once to the top of Fame's ladder, where she re- 
mained always in the world of children. No writer 
before or since her time has bequeathed such a 
goodly heritage to girls. From the moment we 
encounter Jo, stretched on the hearth rug, until 
we take leave of her under the apple trees at 
Plumfield, fifteen years later, the light of her busy, 
useful life sheds happiness on all who read of her. 

What is there, after all, in the book which has 
held so many generations of readers under a magic 
spell? It is but a simple story of simple girls, 
bound by a beautiful tie of family love, that neither 
poverty, sorrow nor death could sever. Four little 
pilgrims, struggling onward and upward through 
all the difficulties that beset them on their way ; that 
is all — just the story of their lives — their daily 



"LITTLE WOMEN." 187 

Struggles, their joys, and their sorrows; but what 
girl among the millions who have pored over the 
book could read of them unmoved? How many 
ambitions have been spurred on by Jo's struggles 
and difficulties and by Amy's artistic efforts ! How 
many little " Crickets on the Hearth " have 
chirped the sweeter for dear little BetKs sunny in- 
fluence! How many homes have been made the 
happier by the " Meggs " who have graced them! 
And they were not always turtle doves, like the 
good little story-book children. Jo and Amy, the 
two high tempers of the family, had many a 
squabble, and "Little Women " records probably 
the most serious quarrel of their young lives in the 
chapter where " Jo Meets Apollyon." 

One little girl clearly remembers her feelings 
over that dreadful affair, and, though she is grown 
now, the problem of twenty years ago still con- 
fronts her. Who was the greater sinner — Amy, for 
destroying her sister's book, or Jo, for not warning 
Amy that the ice on the river was thin? " Never 
let the sun go down upon your anger," said Mrs. 
March, as they went to bed the night of the quar- 
rel, yet rebellious Jo could not forgive. For years 
this same little girl took this wholesome advice as 
her guiding star for her own unruly spirit. 

Louisa was not prepared for the storm of ap- 
plause her book called forth. Tucked away in her 
modest corner of Concord, she looked on in wonder 
as edition after edition was printed to supply the 



1 88 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

demand, and the hitherto empty coffers of the Al- 
cott family began to " swell wisibly," as her favor- 
ite Sam Weller might have said. Great excitement 
reigned among the children, who regarded the au- 
thor of " Little Women " as their own special prop- 
erty. Though written for girls, there was enough 
boy material to suit everyone, and it was soon very 
plain that the mere suggestion of a love story at- 
tracted the youngsters more than any other part of 
the book. They demanded a sequel. They wanted 
to go to Meg's wedding, to see Jo and Beth and 
Amy grow up, with lovers of their own; to see 
Jo, in particular, married to their favorite Laurie; 
but here the much-enduring author balked. She 
wrote in her journal on October 30, 1868: 

" Mr. Niles wants a second volume for spring. 
Pleasant notices and letters arrive, and much inter- 
est in my ' little women,' who seem to find friends 
by their truth to life, as I hoped. 

*' November ist. Began the second part of * Lit- 
tle Women.' I can do a chapter a day, and in a 
month I mean to be done. A little success is so 
inspiring that I now find my Marches sober, nice 
people, and, as I can launch into the future, my 
fancy has more play. Girls write to ask who the lit- 
tle women marry, as if that was the only end and 
aim of a woman's life. I won't marry Jo to Lau- 
rie to please anyone." 

Louisa always turned thorny over the " lover- 
ing" parts, but as the children clamored for a 



"LITTLE WOMEN." 189 

proper pairing-off of the March girls, she was 
forced to give in, and the result was an interweav- 
ing of wholesome romance into this fine story of 
home life. There was a touch of sympathetic fin- 
gers about the heartstrings of these little women, 
but in spite of tears and entreaties, Jo turned a deaf 
ear to poor Laurie's wooing. 

Imploring letters poured in upon her, and the 
children were heartbroken; in some instances they 
were made ill by grief and excitement, until at last 
Miss Alcott was forced to find some kind of a lover 
for her Jo, whom she had destined to be a jolly old 
maid. So Professor Bhaer came upon the scene, 
and soon won his way into the warm regard of the 
young readers. We like him better, perhaps in 
" Little Men " and " Jo's Boys," where there is not 
such a striking contrast between the polished Lau- 
rie and the gruff though kindly German. The chil- 
dren were mollified if not wholly satisfied, and 
the author thereafter was left in peace on that 
subject. But she was no longer a private person, 
for every girl who had read her book claimed her 
friendship. 

Her thirty-sixth birthday she spent alone, writing 
hard; she was in a vortex, stopping neither to eat 
nor to sleep, and being in Boston at that time, there 
were no interruptions. In December, she went back 
to Concord to shut up the house for the winter. 
" A cold, hard, dirty time," she writes, " but was 
so glad to be out of Concord that I worked like a 



IQO LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

beaver, and turned the key on Apple Slump with 
joy." 

She was worried about her mother, whose 
health was breaking, and she thought a winter with 
Anna and the boys, sturdy lads of six and four, 
would benefit her greatly, " I feel as if the de- 
cline had begun for her," she says, " and each year 
will add to the change which is going on, as time 
alters the energetic, enthusiastic home mother into 
a gentle, feeble old woman, to be cherished and 
helped down the long hill she has climbed so 
bravely with her many biu*dens." 

Louisa and May took a sky-parlor at the Belle- 
vue Hotel, where they " had a queer time whisking 
up and down in the elevator, eating in a marble 
cafe, and sleeping on a sofa bed, that we might be 
genteel. It did not suit me at all. A great gale 
nearly blew the roof off, steam pipes exploded, and 
we were hungry. I was very tired with my hard 
summer, with no rest for the brains that earn the 
money." 

Poor Louisa! She never spared herself; indeed, 
engrossed in her work, she forgot that she had a 
bundle of nerves, and a head but too prone to ache 
over the slightest exertion. So they came down 
.from their " sky parlor " and went to quiet Chaun- 
cey Street. On January i, 1869, Louisa sent the 
second volume of " Little Women " out into the 
world, — a wide, wide world, as it proved, for the 
book has been translated into French, German and 



"LITTLE WOMEN." 191 

Dutch. In Holland, the first part was called 
" Under the Mother's Wings," and the second, " On 
Their Own Wings." 

In March, they went back to Concord, for the old 
people were restless out of the home nest; Louisa 
was very tired and more ailing than she dared to 
say. Too much lay upon her shoulders, and she 
could not help feeling that if she fell ill the family 
would go to pieces, so she would often keep up and 
write her stories in spite of " headaches, cough, and 
weariness." She was glad enough sometimes when 
the real pain gave her an excuse for resting, for her 
mind was easy in spite of physical woes, and when 
she could not write, she could at least " think over 
her blessings and be grateful," for " Little Women " 
paid the last debts of the family and Louisa's 
dreams were coming true. Each month, each 
week, the demand for " Little Women " increased, 
until she began to accept, as a matter of course, the 
large checks her publishers were constantly send- 
ing her. 

She wrote to them, December 28, 1869, from 
Boston : 

" Many thanks for the check which made my 
Christmas an unusually merry one. 

" After toiling so many years along the uphill 
road — always a hard one to women writers — it is 
peculiarly grateful to me to find the way growing 
easier at last, with pleasant little surprises blossom- 



192 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

ing on either side, and the rough places made 
smooth by the courtesy and kindness of those who 
have proved themselves friends as well as pub- 
lishers. 

" With best wishes for the coming year, 
" I am, yours truly, 

"L. M. Alcott." 

Indeed, this earnest young pilgrim, who had car- 
ried so many burdens and was so very, very tired, 
began to see her goal in the distance. Surely for 
some good end they had played at " Pilgrim's 
Progress " in their childhood, had read their little 
books and had profited by their wisdom; and what 
more fitting sermon could Louisa preach to her 
unknown thousands of young friends than that 
which she has put into the preface of her book, 
adapted from John Bunyan himself? 

Go then, my little Book, and show to all 
That entertain, and bid thee welcome shall, 
What thou dost keep close shut up in thy breast; 
And wish what thou dost show them may be blest 
To them for good, may make them choose to be 
Pilgrims better, by far, than thee or me. 
Tell them of Mercy; she is one 
Who early hath her pilgrimage begun. 
Yea, let young damsels learn of her to prize 
The world which is to come, and so be wise; 
For litde tripping maids may follow God 
Along the ways which saintly feet have trod. 



"LITTLE WOMEN." I93 

Surely no book has gone forth with a simpler 
purpose, and just because " Little Women " is not 
" preachy " it has found its way to the hearts of its 
readers. Honest little girls, striving to be good 
and carry their burdens cheerily, have prized it 
through generations ; it has given them a better grip 
on the small things of life, which count so much for 
true happiness; but brightest of all the gems the 
book contains is the radiance of mother-love which 
shines through it. 

The March girls loved their mother, made her 
their confidante, and turned to her through every 
trial of their lives ; she was companion and friend 
as well as teacher and guide, and many a girl, and 
many a mother, has learned a lesson from the beau- 
tiful example these " Little Women " have set them. 

Louisa Alcott wrote many bright and wholesome 
stories after her " luck child " had found her a cor- 
ner in the world of fame, but " Little Women " 
comes first on the shelf, and in the hearts of her 
admirers. 



CHAPTER XII. 



WHO S WHO. 




HE chief charm of Miss Alcott's stories 
is the " real life " in them. Many au- 
thors write of things that are true, but 
not all are so happy in bringing the 
vivid pictures before our minds. All the " little 
women " are very human and very lovable, for 
Louisa drew portraits of her sisters and herself, with 
a magic art, true to life, rich in color. 

Anna, with her sweet nature, her talent for act- 
ing, her little home graces and dainty ways, makes 
a charming Meg, whose romance with John Brooke 
closes the first volume with the far-ofif chime of 
wedding-bells. Beth, the gentle household spirit, 
with her love of music, her sweet influence, will 
never die to the readers of " Little Women." 
Dear as she was to the turbulent Jo, she was far 
more to Louisa, who mingled the memory of her 
in many of her tales. And golden-haired Af7ty 
perhaps lived longer than all, for the artistic tal- 
ent was no stretch of sisterly imagination. The 
seed which sprouted in Amy's school-days bore its 

194 



"WHO'S WHO." 195 

fruit in May Alcott's exquisite work in later years, 
and the loving pen which drew the self-willed, some- 
what selfish little girl with such faithful strokes 
showed later on the graceful charming woman into 
which she had bloomed. Miss Alcott had many 
golden-haired heroines in her stories. Amy March 
is an acknowledged portrait of her sister, and pos- 
sibly the author of " The Eight Cousins " drew the 
portrait of Rose from the same source. The best 
and truest biography of Mrs. Alcott, Louisa has set 
forth tenderly in the character of Marmee. 

" A stout, motherly lady with a * can-I-help-you * 
look about her, which was truly delightful. She 
was not a particularly handsome person, but 
mothers are always lovely to their children, and 
the girls thought the gray cloak and unfashion- 
able bonnet covered the most splendid woman in 
the world." 

This is our introduction to our " little women's " 
Marmee, and further on : " The first sound in the 
morning was her voice as she went about the house, 
singing like a lark ; and the last sound at night was 
the same cheery sound, for the girls never grew 
too old for that familiar lullaby." 

The book is full of her loving, living presence, 
this Marmee whom Louisa shared so generously 
with a world of girls. Mrs. March, she tells us, 
" is all true, only not half good enough," but she 
did not know the power of her pen and how each 
stroke enhanced the beauty of the picture. This 



196 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT, 

first volume tells us little of Mr. March, though in 
the second part we catch many sweet glimpses of 
Louisa's " dear Plato." Mr. Laurence she created 
from the memory of her grandfather, Colonel Jo- 
seph May, and the irascible old Aunt March was 
really the only character in the book not taken from 
a living original. There is scarcely an experience 
or adventure of the four sisters which is not true 
to life. All of Jo's literary endeavors and Amy's 
artistic flights were real happenings in the Alcott 
family. In the choice of names, too. Miss Alcott 
was very clever. May being a family name and 
the name of a month, March suggested itself as 
being equally appropriate for these " story-book " 
girls. 

Meg was a made name for Anna, though Louisa 
often called her " Peggy " ; but Jo had been a nick- 
name for boyish Louisa during her girlhood, and 
certainly fits the tall, overgrown girl in " Little 
Women " to a " T." Beth' s dear little name stands 
just as it was in life, and Amy is merely a trans- 
posing of letters in the name of her youngest sis- 
ter, suggesting, too, " Abby," which was a favorite 
name with her friends. 

But the chapters that really please us most are 
those that deal with the " Laurence Boy." About 
one million two hundred and fifty thousand, nine 
hundred and ninety-nine girl-readers, from ten to 
fifteen years of age, have been in love with Lau- 
rie during the last forty years, and probably as 



"WHO'S WHO." 197 

many more faithful " loveresses " will rise up and 
adore him in the years to come. But for Laurie, 
indeed, it is doubtful if Miss Alcott herself could 
have written the book, and as she made him live, 
not only in " Little Women " but in " Little Men " 
and " Jo's Boys " as well, it may prove interesting 
to discover out of what material she fashioned this 
very best boy of her very best book. 

There is no doubt that her Polish boy, Ladislas, 
suggested the idea of Laurie, a nickname by 
which she often called him in the pleasant days at 
Vevey. The dark foreign face, the love of music, 
the impulsive, affectionate disposition, were all finely 
drawn features of this living portrait. Miss Alcott 
says : " Laurie is not an American boy, though every 
lad I ever knew claims the character. He was a 
Polish boy I met abroad in 1865." 

True, as far as it goes, yet in spite of this asser- 
tion, there has always been a question as to who 
this very real Laurie really was, and in a series 
of letters written to Alfred Whitman by Miss Al- 
cott, covering a correspondence of eleven years, 
from 1858-69, we have still more evidence to 
prove that the original of Laurie was a divided 
honor. 

In the fall of 1857, Alfred Whitman, a lonely, 
flaxen-haired boy, came to Concord to attend Mr. 
Sanborn's school. He lived in the home of the 
Minol: Pratts and became very intimate with John 
Pratt and Carrie, his only sister. John took him 



198 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

to call upon the Alcotts, just before Beth's 
death. 

" In the little house near the Town Hall, . . ." 
writes Alfred Whitman himself, " began the ac- 
quaintance which was to bring to John Prptt a lov- 
ing and devoted wife and to the writer a life-long 
friendship with the Alcotts and the Pratts. So 
close was the friendship and so hearty and genuine 
the way in which I was taken into companionship 
by these gifted people, that it never occurred to me 
that all, with the exception of Abby, were at least 
ten years older than myself, and though I was born 
and had lived all my days in Massachusetts, the last 
year of my life in that State seems to have in- 
cluded almost all that was permanent in my mem- 
ory of it, and Concord the only place I think of as 
home, though I lived there not quite a year," 

Alfred Whitman became a member of the Con- 
cord Dramatic Union, organized by Mr, Sanborn, 
with the three Alcott girls, George B, Bartlett and 
his brothers, Ripley and Ned; Edward and Edith 
Emerson, and others, as members. The vestry- 
room of the Unitarian Church was used as ^ cla? 
room by Mr. Sanborn, and here they erec 
stage and acted their dramas. 

Alfred Whitman was a shy boy of about fifteen 
when Louisa first met him ; he was a blue-eyed, "-^l- 
low-haired laddie, very much in coloring like .r 
sister May, which attracted her at once, for she ad- 
mired that type immensely. He was a reserved fel- 



"WHO'S WHO." 199 

low, somewhat sad and serious at times, but Louisa 
found him out at last, thanks to Dickens. The 
Concord Dramatic Union gave a series of plays and 
dramatized scenes from his writings, most of them 
Louisa's clever work, and she and Alfred Whitman 
did some good acting together. She tells us about 
him in " My Boys," the first story of " Aunt Jo's 
Scrap-Bag." 

" My special boy of the batch was A., proud and 
cold and shy to other people, sad and serious some- 
times, when his good heart and tender conscience 
showed him his shortcomings, but so grateful for 
sympathy and a kind word, . . . 

" We played Dolphus and Sophy Tetterby in 
* The Haunted Man,' at one of the school festivals ; 
and during the rehearsals I discovered that my 
Dolphus was — permit the expression, oh, well-bred 
readers — a trump! What fun we had to be sure, 
acting the droll and pathetic scenes together, with a 
swarm of little Tetterbys skirmishing about us. 
From that time he has been my Dolphus and I his 
Sophy, and my yellow-haired laddie doesn't forget 
me though he was a younger Sophy now, and some 
small Tetterbys of his own." 

In November, 1858, Alfred Whitman left Con- 
cord for his new home in Kansas, and from that 
time kept up a vigorous correspondence with the 
Alcott family. The letters of Louisa, he writes, 
" were the most inspiring, and it is because I feel 
that they illustrate a phase of her character that 
14 



200 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

has not been shown to the public' as it should have 
been, that I have consented to their publication," 
Brave, bright, and hopeful are the letters which 
cover this period, all the sweetest and most at- 
tractive side of Louisa's nature shone forth 
in her intercourse with boys, and this boy, 
in particular, enjoyed the privilege of her warm 
affection. 

But the closing letter of the series is the 
" clincher " which shows beyond all shadow of a 
doubt that Alfred Whitman was as much the orig- 
inal of Laurie as the ever-fascinating Polish Ladis- 
las. It was written immediately after she had placed 
Part Second of " Little Women " in her publisher's 
hands. 

Mr. F. B. Sanborn, Miss Alcott's life-long friend, 
introduces the letter with this brief foreword : 

" As for Miss Alcott's statement that Laurie 
was wholly Ladislas, that must have been to escape 
annoying hints and questions, for it was obvious 
from the first that the Polish lad could not have 
sat for the distinctly American traits in that com- 
posite and glorious human boy. Concord people 
have always felt that the Polish boy was not the 
sole original, and they have tried to guess who 
the other person really was. This letter solves the 
mystery, for written when the book was fresh, it 
tells the evident truth. 

" F. B. Sanborn." 



"WHO'S WHO." 20I 

And here is the letter : 

"Boston, January 6, 1869. 
" Dear Alf : 

" I have planned to write you dozens of times, 
but work prevented ; but now I really will, though 
piles of MSS. lie waiting for my editorial eye. 
Don't you ever think old Sophy forgets her Dol- 
phiis! Why, bless your heart, I put you into my 
story as one of the best and dearest lads I ever 
knew! Laurie is you and my Polish boy jointly. 
You are the sober half, and my Ladislas (whom I 
met abroad) the gay, whirligig half; he was a per- 
fect dear. 

" All my little girl friends are madly in love with 
Laurie and insist on a sequel, so I have written 
one which will make you laugh, especially the pair- 
ing-off part. But I didn't know how to settle my 
family any other way. I wanted to disappoint the 
young gossips, who vowed that Laurie and I 
should marry. Authors take dreadful liberties, but 
you will not mind being a happy spouse and a 
proud papa, will you? 

". . . If anything in those old times does you 
good and makes the memory sweet, I am truly glad, 
for it gives an added charm to home, to go halves 
in it with some one who hasn't got any, and I 
should very much like to find another Alf to fill the 
empty place there, if that was possible. 

" I'm fond of boys, as you may have discovered ; 
I always want one somewhere handy, so, as you say 



202 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

you haven't grown up (which is a great comfort 
to me), I wish you'd come East and be our Alf 
again, if Mrs, Mary doesn't object. 

" Good-by, my dear boy, write to me and you 
shall truly get an answer from, 

" Your ever loving old ' 

" Sophy." 

There is a picture of this fair-haired boy, a hand- 
some, thoughtful, most attractive face he had; but 
Louisa's Laurie was painted with Ladislas's color- 
ing, dark hair and eyes, with a dreamy expression 
and a musical soul, that certainly did not belong to 
the New England boy, while the broad shoulders, 
athletic, well-knit figure, the prowess in boating, 
skating, horseback riding, and all active games were 
not attributes of the delicate Polish boy, as Louisa 
knew him. 

Alfred Whitman's most intimate friend in Con- 
cord was John Pratt, who, though many years 
older, took a real brotherly interest in the lad. In 
their intercourse with the Alcott family, they were 
always together, so in " Little Women " Louisa had 
brought out the friendship between Laurie and John 
Brooke, who was a faithful likeness of her brother- 
in-law. Indeed, in the first volume, the New Eng- 
land boy takes the lead, save in flashes of mischief, 
which Miss Alcott tells us belonged to Ladislas. 

In the second volume, there is a delightful mix- 
ture of the romantic young foreigner, and the mis- 



"WHO'S WHO." 203 

chievous iindergradnate in the " grown-up Laurie " 
as we see him first after the lapse of three years. 
His passion for Jo is very American, and he bore 
his defeat with true New England fortitude; but 
from the time he decided to go abroad and forget 
this hard-hearted young person, the New England 
part of him vanished. Every disappointed girl re- 
members that parting — how he embraced them all, 
and ran downstairs as if for his life. 

" Jo followed a minute after to wave her hand to 
him if he looked round. He did look round, came 
back, put his arms about her as she stood on the step 
above him, and looked up at her, with a face that 
made his short appeal both eloquent and pathetic. 

"'Oh, Jo, can't you?' 

" ' Teddy, dear, I wish I could ! ' 

" That was all, except a little pause ; then Laurie 
straightened himself up, said : ' It's all right, never 
mind ' — and went away without another word. Ah, 
but it wasn't all right, and Jo did mind; for while 
the curly head lay on her arm a minute after her 
hard answer, she felt as if she had stabbed her dear- 
est friend ; and when he left her without a look be- 
hind him, she knew that the boy Laurie would never 
come again," 

TJiat was her last glimpse of Laddie, when they 
parted in Paris and he asked for the " sweet English 
good-by." From that time we see most of Ladislas, 
until in the last chapter, under the apple trees at 
Plumfield. the New England part of him appears 



204 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

again in " the happy spouse and the proud papa " 
with his Httle golden-haired girl in his arms, and 
his handsome, golden-haired wife close by. 

A most lovable " glorious human boy," the nicest 
boy that ever shone as the hero of a girl's book, and 
" true " straight through, every inch of him ! 

Every enthusiastic reader claimed a " favorite " 
chapter, and Miss Alcott was deluged with letters 
from every quarter; honest and full of admiration 
they were, and save for the fact that they came in 
shoals, she would have liked to answer each one ; but 
as that could not be, she contented herself with pick- 
ing a few pretty buds of friendship from among 
these flowery epistles. 

We are indebted to Mr, Bok, of the Ladies' Home 
Journal, for a charming glimpse of Miss Alcott's 
association with girls, for, after writing " Little 
Women," she had to tuck her pet boys in one corner 
of her heart, and open another corner to the thou- 
sands of girls who knocked for admittance, A 
special bunch of " little women " from Pennsyl- 
vania, five in number — and sisters, were much inter- 
ested in the Pickwick Portfolio and resolved to fol- 
low the March girls' example, and print a little 
paper of their own. Their father bought them type 
and a printing press, and " in a short time the first 
issue of Little Things appeared, edited by Carrie, 
Maggie, Nellie, Emma, and Helen Lukens, the eld- 
est of whom was barely seventeen." They sent a 
copy, of course, to Miss Alcott, who was not only 



"WHO'S WHO." 205 

delighted with the appearance of the little paper, but 
with the pluck and energy of the editors, and soon 
began to take a personal interest in the girls, which 
lasted through the rest of her life. Their friendship 
began and ended in letters, for they never met. But 
" Little Women " drew them close together to begin 
with ; the girls' letters were well written and clever ; 
Louisa's were reproductions of herself, original, 
witty, sensible and helpful, full of friendly advice 
about themselves and their paper. 

Her first letter to them, dated Concord, August 
3, 1872, begins: 

" ^[y dear Little Women : 

" I will certainly answer your pleasant letter and 
very gladly subscribe to your paper, although it has 
not yet arrived. My two ' little men ' at once de- 
manded it and were much impressed with the idea 
of girls having a printing press and getting out a 
' truly paper.' I admire your pluck and persever- 
ance, and heartily believe in women's right to any 
branch of labor for which they prove their fitness. 
Work is such a beautiful and helpful thing, and in- 
dependence so delightful, that I wonder there are 
any lazy people in the world. I hope you preach 
that doctrme in your paper, not in the rampant 
Woman's Rights fashion, but by showing how much 
women can do, even in attending skillfully to the 
* little things ' that have such an influence on home 
life, and through it, upon the world outside." 



2o6 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

She closes by saying : " Please present my re- 
spects to the wise father of the five happy girls, and 
with best wishes for the success of the paper, be- 
lieve me very sincerely your friend and fellow- 
worker, 

" Louisa M. Alcott." 

Proud girls they were with such a letter, and 
there were many more to come. " Dear Girls " she 
wrote them in her next letter, then " Dear Sisters," 
and, finally, she called them by name, with a cer- 
tain boyish friendliness which was part of Louisa, 
for she liked these girls, with their frank manner 
of asking questions and criticising her books. In 
one letter she sent, by request, a photograph of her- 
self, and, after seeing a reprint of it, one need 
scarcely wonder that these girls and the friends to 
whom they showed it were disappointed. She 
writes in a postscript — she was very fond of post- 
scripts : 

" I send you the last photograph I have — not very 
good, but you can't make a Venus out of a tired old 
lady." 

Now, considering this " old >lady " was but forty 
at the time of writing, the girls might reasonably 
have expected something less settled. The spinster 
of forty these days does not take to shawls and 
middle-aged adornments. Louisa's glorious chest- 
nut hair, fine eyes and complexion, and beautiful 
nose deserved better treatment. Nowadays we do 



'WHO'S WHO." 207 

not go by rule in dress ; we arc more apt to consult 
the becoming, and if the prevaiHng style makes us 
look younger, so much the better. But in Louisa's 
time there were unwritten laws concerning dress; 
there was a style for each period. Ladies of forty or 
more wore shawls, and downright honest Louisa 
draped one over her shoulders, thereby upsetting 
all popular ideas of boyish Jo. 

" I sympathize with your friends on seeing my 
picture," she writes in another letter [they were 
honest enough to speak their minds], "for I re- 
member I was so upset when I saw Fredericka 
Bremer, whose books I loved, that my sister Nan 
and I went into a closet and cried, though w^e were 
great girls of sixteen and eighteen." 

The five young editors sent her their photo- 
graphs, and she wrote them an enthusiastic letter of 
thanks. 

" Dear Sisters : 

" I waited till the five were all here before I sent 
my thanks. They make a very pretty little ' land- 
scape,' as Jo used to say, all in a group on my table, 
and I am glad to show such a posy of bright, enter- 
prising girls. Long may they w^ave ! My Marmee, 
though very feeble now, was much pleased at your 
message, and said, in her motherly way, as she 
looked at the five faces : 

" * Little dears, I wish I could see 'em all and do 
something for 'em.' 



2o8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

" Perhaps some of these summers we may see a 
band of pilgrims coming up to our door, and then 
the three old March girls and the five young L — 
ditto will sit in a bunch and spin yarns. Play 
we do." 

Evidently the girls had literary ambition, and 
sought her advice, which she freely gave them. 

" Of one thing let me, an old scribbler, warn 
you," she goes on. " Don't write with steel pens, 
or you will have what is called ' writer's cramp ' 
and lose the use of your thumb, as I have. I have 
to wabble around with two fingers, while my absurd 
thumb is folded under and no good for pen work, 
though all right for other things. Look at my wild 
scribbles and use cork penholders or gold pens, and 
don't write fourteen hours at a stretch, as I used 
to do." 

Think of a writer now, dependent on steel pens 
and a bottle of ink ! Had Louisa in the early days 
of her career used a typewriter and a fountain pen, 
there is no telling how many more delightful books 
would have fallen to our share and how much less 
the worn-out nerves and the aching head would 
have had to tax them. 

" I am glad," she continues, " there is ironing 
and preserving to rest the busy brains with good, 
wholesome work. I believe in it so heartily that 
I sweep my eight rooms twice a week, iron and 
scrub around for health's sake, as I have found it 
better medicine than any doctor ever gave me." 



"WHO'S WHO." 209 

Energetic Louisa carried her " medicine " almost 
too far at times. The hospital strain had not daunt- 
ed her soul, but it had certainly weakened her body, 
and rest, as she found out later, was what she 
needed above all. Of course, she added a postscript 
— a most interesting one : 

" You may like to know that my Polish boy, 
Laddie (or Laurie), has turned up in New York, 
alive and well, with a wife and * two little daugh- 
ters,' as he says in his funny English. He is com- 
ing to see me, and I expect to find my romantic 
boy a stout papa — the glory all gone. Isn't it sad? 

" As I can't give or lend you the dear old original, 
I send you a picture of Marmee, taken some ten or 
fifteen years ago. She is much changed now, wears 
caps and is old and broken sadly." 

In another letter she says : 

" Why people will think Jo small, when she is 
described as tall, I can't see; and why insist that 
she must be young, when she is said to be thirty at 
the end of the book ? " 

Concerning Jo, Miss Alcott and her reading pub- 
lic were always squabbling; the truthful author- 
ess must cast no glamour of romance around her, 
while enthusiastic readers built castles in the air, 
which everyday Jo refused to inhabit. Indeed, to 
Louisa herself, the March girls had become real 
people, and she talked about them quite as inti- 
mately as she discussed her own family affairs, and 
the correspondence with these other " little women " 



2IO LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

made them seem even more real. So we see what 
this one simple little story has done for the world 
of girls, but we can never know what it did for 
Louisa herself. 

Unwillingly she had turned out of her way into 
this new path, never dreaming she would find her 
goal at the end of this little country road, and she 
was rewarded by having flowers spring up around 
her, sweeter and lovelier than any she had yet 
gathered. She herself looked on in wonder, as, one 
by one, her dearest hopes were gratified; she had 
only to put forth her hand and it was filled with 
gold, which she scattered broadcast for the good of 
others. She began to love the girls for whom she 
wrote, she studied them, she had much to say to 
them, for they had brought her luck. She never 
forsook her boys, but when fair young faces beamed 
upon her, and girlish hearts took her in, and girlish 
hands stretched out to her, who could hold back? 
Surely not Louisa! She embraced them all in her 
wholesome, hearty way ; they became her dear " lit- 
tle sisters," and she worked for them all the rest of 
her life. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



SHAWL STRAPS. 




HILE the world rang with the praises of 
" Little Women," Louisa, ill and tired, 
found that being a celebrated person 
was just a bit annoying. 
" People begin to come and stare at the Alcotts," 
she writes in her journal. " Reporters haunt the 
place to look at the authoress, who dodges into the 
woods a la Hawthorne, and won't be even a very 
small lion." 

But it was pleasant to rest and take breath after 
the long uphill struggle, and the winter of 1869 
was happily spent in Boston, doing very little liter- 
ary work beyond revising " Hospital Sketches," to 
which she added six " Camp and Fireside Stories." 
These she handed over to Roberts Brothers, and 
they were republished with great success. Money 
now came in so plentifully that she was able to put 
by small sums for investment, besides making her 
beloved family " cozy and comfortable." 

The early summer months she stayed in Concord, 
but she was never well there, and the long hot days 
were very trying to her. Her health demanded a 



212 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

change, so she spent the month of July with her 
cousins, the Frothinghams, in Canada. They had 
a house at Riviere du Loup, " a httle village on the 
St. Lawrence, full of queer people. Drove, read, 
and walked with the little ones. A pleasant, quiet, 
time." 

"August. A month with May at Mt. Desert. 
A gay time and a little rest and pleasure before the 
old pain and worry began again. Made up a 
thousand dollars for S. E. S. to invest. Now I 
have twelve hundred for a rainy day and no debts. 
With that thought I can bear neuralgia gayly." 

Indeed, pain was now Louisa's unfailing guest. 

In the autumn they all went to Boston. Mr. and 
Mrs. Alcott to stay with Anna, while Louisa and 
May had pleasant rooms not far away. At this 
time, Mrs. Cheney tells us, that Louisa " not being 
well enough to do much new work, began using up 
her old stories, and found the * little women ' helped 
their rejected sisters to good places, where once 
they went a-begging." As the winter came upon 
them she grew more and more ailing, and when in 
February she finished " The Old-Fashioned Girl," 
she was quite used up. 

" I wrote it with left hand in a sling, one foot up, 
head aching, and no voice. Yet as the book is 
funny, people will say * Didn't you enjoy doing it? ' 
I often think of poor Tom Hood as I scribble rather 
than lie and groan. I certainly earn my living by 
the sweat of my brow." 



"SHAWL STRAPS." 213 

But she soon began to realize the penalties of 
greatness; the public besieged her, not only did the 
children, for whom she wrote, clamor for " more 
stories, more, right away," but even their elders 
began to act foolishly. Poor Louisa, who loved the 
big world, found the strangers who " demanded to 
look at her, question, advise, warn, congratulate " — 
most tiresome, impertinent beings. With no claim 
upon her, they would invade her privacy and drive 
her to distraction. She bore this very quietly in the 
early days of her fame, but in " Jo's Boys," the last 
of the " Little Women " series, in the chapter called 
" Jo's Last Scrape," she speaks her mind, after 
years of torment. 

Taken as a whole, this clever chapter is a com- 
plete and spirited autobiography of Louisa, at the 
time of the launching of " Little Women," and, to 
be properly appreciated, should be read aloud by 
some one whose sense of humor is as keen as hers 
was. She says of herself : 

" Things always went by contraries with Jo. Her 
first book, labored over for years, . . . foundered 
on its voyage. . . . The hastily written story, sent 
away with no thought beyond the few dollars it 
might bring, sailed with a fair wind and a wise 
pilot at the helm straight into public favor, and came 
home heavily laden with an unexpected cargo of 
gold and glory. 
' / " She did her best for the children, . . . feeling 
'' that she owed a good deal to the little friends in 



214 LOTJISA MAY ALCOTT. 

whose sight she had found favor after twenty years 
of effort. 

" But a time came when her patience gave out ; 
and wearying of being a Hon, she became a bear in 
nature as in name, and retiring to her den, growled 
awfully when ordered out." 

It was certainly very funny, but no less annoying, 
for all that. If the demand for autographs and 
photographs had been the only grievance, she might 
have borne it calmly, but " when a series of enthu- 
siastic boarding schools had ravaged her grounds 
for trophies, and a steady stream of amiable pilgrims 
had worn her doorsteps with their respectful feet; 
when servants left after a week's trial of the bell 
that rang all day," then did Louisa begin seriously 
to think of flight. Not anywhere in America could 
she hide herself — she was known far and wide. 
Even her father, whose true worth and talents had 
never before been appreciated, was now welcomed 
everywhere with open arms, as the " Grandfather of 
* Little Women.' " The ocean must roll between 
her and her too ardent admirers. She was abso- 
lutely not strong enough to stand her popularity. 
Perhaps the following poem from an unknown gen- 
ius hastened her decision. Such absurdity always 
roused her wrath. 

In " Jo's Boys " it was dedicated to J. M. B., 
and with the exception of the last verse, which 
she altered for the use of her story, is a tru 
offering. 



"SHAWL STRAPS." 215 

" Oh, were I a heliotrope 
I would play poet, 
And blow a breeze of fragrance 
To you; and none should know it. 

" Your form like the stately elm. 

When Phoebus gilds the morning ray, 
Your cheek like the ocean bed 
That blooms a rose in May. 

" Your words are wise and bright, 

I bequeath them to you a legacy given, 
And when your spirit takes its flight. 
May it bloom a flower in Heaven. 

" My tongue in flattering language spoke, 
And sweeter silence never broke. 
In busiest street or loneliest glen. 
I take you with the flashes of my pen. 

"Consider the lilies, how they grow; 
They toil not, yet are fair 
Gems and flowers and Solomon's seal. 
The geranium of the world is J. M. Bhaer. 

" James." 

Any more such poems would have made Louisa 
feel like endowing an asylum for lunatics, and so 
she ran for her life to the other side of the world. 

May was invited by a friend to go abroad, on 
condition that Louisa would be of the party. For 
a long time she hesitated ; she was not well and the 
15 



2i6 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

undertaking looked enormous. But her sister was 
wild to go, and the two younger women were really 
dependent on an older head and wiser judgment; 
besides, Louisa had been abroad before and knew 
something of foreign travel, so after much hesitation 
she " gave in." 

Their minds made up, it did not take the trio 
long to get ready, and on the first of April, " fit 
day for my undertaking " she says in her journal, 
" May and I went to New York to meet Alice Bart- 
lett with John for escort. Everyone very kind, 
thirty gifts, a parting ball among our housemates, 
and a great cake. Half a dozen devoted beings at 
the station to see us off. But I remember only 
Father and Mother, as they went away the day be- 
fore, leaving the two ambitious daughters to sail 
away, perhaps forever. Mother kept up bravely 
and nodded and smiled ; but at the corner I saw the 
white handkerchief go up to the eyes, after being 
gayly waved to us. May and I broke down and 
said : ' We won't go,' but next day we set forth as 
young birds will, and left the nest empty for a year. 

" Sailed on the 2d in a gale of wind, in the 
French steamer Lafayette for Brest. Our adven- 
tures are told in * Shawl Straps.' ' Old-Fashioned 
Girl ' came out in March and sold well. Train-boy 
going to New York put it into my lap, and when 
I said I didn't care for it, exclaimed with surprise : 
* Bully book, ma'am. Sell a lot ; better have it' 

" John told him I wrote it ; and his chuckle, stare, 



"SHAWL STRAPS." 217 

and astonished * No ! ' was great fun. On the 
steamer little girls had it, and came in a party to 
call on me, very seasick in my berth, done up like a 
mummy." 

It did not need " Little Women's " popularity 
alone to sell " An Old-Fashioned Girl." Nowhere 
could one find a more charming heroine in girldom 
than this sweet, simple, pretty, old-fashioned Polly. 
We all love her and sympathize with the many trials 
and tests which did their part in the making of a 
lovely young woman. ■ 

Polly is what might be called a composite photo- 
graph, that is to say, Miss Alcott took the best traits 
of all the best girls she knew, and smoothed them 
out and polished them up, and set them to music in 
the soul of this little country girl. Not that Polly 
was perfect, for then she would have been an im- 
possible little prig; but she was very human and 
very real, and the boy Tom, with his freckled face 
and red hair, full of mischief, but sound at the 
kernel, was a real boy, too, a boy after Louisa's own 
heart. 

She brings the country mouse to the city, but one 
can see at a glance that Polly came from Concord, 
and the simple teaching of a certain wise mother 
found its way into the heart of Boston. Louisa al- 
ways despised the hollowness and shams of what 
was called " good society," and that pretty, honest 
Polly was able to see the best side of it is a great 
satisfaction to the girl readers. The same little 



2l8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Pollys can be found to-day who existed forty years 
ago ; indeed, time gives only an added touch of color 
to Miss Alcott's boys and girls. So well she loved 
them, so thoroughly she knew them, that we have 
them with us always as real, as truly living as in 
the past. Leaving this golden ^gg behind her, the 
" ugly duckling," as Louisa laughingly called her- 
self, sailed away with the proud air of a swan. 

This trip to Europe was many strides ahead of 
the other. In 1865, Louisa, worn-out by a long 
illness, and anxious for a change she could ill afford, 
took advantage of an opportunity and went over as 
the companion of an invalid. In 1870, still in 
search of health, she crossed again, but think what 
a difference ! Here she was, a woman of independ- 
ent means, able to go where she liked and do what 
she pleased, having left all safe and comfortable at 
home. Besides this, she was one of a very lively 
trio, and though in " Shawl Straps " she persistently 
described herself, under the name of Lavinia, as an 
old lady, she was only thirty-seven when they set 
out. 

She has left us many pleasant memories of her 
year's travel, delightful letters and jottings in her 
journal, and the little book, " Shawl Straps," which 
is a graphic account of their tour through France. 
It came out first serially in the Christian Union at 
the request of her friend, Mrs. Harriet Beecher 
Stowe. Afterwards it was published by Roberts 
Brothers as the second volume of " Aunt Jo's Scrap- 



"SHAWL STRAPS." 219 

Bag," and makes interesting reading for any boy or 
girl who wishes to know something of the countries 
through which they flitted. 

They had a jolly time aboard ship in spite of sea- 
sickness and ceaseless pitching, for they were driv- 
ing in the very teeth of a gale. Their friend she 
named Amanda in "Shawl Straps"; May she 
dubbed Matilda, and these maidens played prom- 
inent and funny parts all through their adventures. 

Such a year as that was ! Such glimpses of inter- 
esting countries! Amanda was their stand-by, for 
she could speak French, and from the time they 
landed in Brest until they reached English-speaking 
London, they depended on her entirely, 

Louisa divided " Shawl Straps " into six parts. 
The first was naturally called " Off "; then followed 
"Brittany," "France," "Italy," "Switzerland," 
and " London." They spent the spring and summer 
in Brittany, Landing at Brest, they w^ent by train 
to Morlaix, their first stopping place, and as Louisa 
tells us in " Shawl Straps," " through a green and 
blooming country so unlike the New England spring 
they had left behind that they rejoiced like butter- 
flies in the sunshine." 

They drove to Dinan, some fourteen miles, " in a 
ramshackle carriage, drawn by three fierce little 
horses, with their tails done up in braided chignons, 
and driven by a humpback." Here their adventures 
began, for these three young women, who had come 
to enjoy themselves, found much to laugh at among 



220 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

their companions, from the sleepy old priest who 
smoked his pipe the whole way, to the big tipsy 
Frenchman, who paid violent attention to poor 
abashed Amanda, and informed her in a burst of 
confidence that he was " obliged to drink much ale, 
because it went to his head and gave him commercial 
ideas." 

They found Dinan a charming spot, where they 
stayed, resting and frolicking, from April 17th to 
the middle of June. The walks and drives were 
picturesque, the views from the pretty house where 
they stopped were entrancing, " for the windows," 
Louisa writes in one of her home letters, " overlook 
a lovely green valley, full of gardens, blooming 
plum and peach trees, windmills, and a ruined castle, 
at sight of which we all skipped. Madame Coste 
received us with rapture. . . . We were in great 
luck, for, being early in the season, she had three 
rooms left, and we nabbed them at once — a salon, 
with old oak walls and wardrobes, a fireplace, funny 
windows, and quaint blue damask furniture. A lit- 
tle room out of it for A., and upstairs a large room 
for May and me, with two beds draped in green 
chintz, and a carved big wardrobe, and so forth, 
and best of all, a sunny window toward the valley. 
For these rooms and our board we each pay one 
dollar a day — and I call that cheap. It would be 
worth that to get the fun and air alone, for it is 
like June, and we sit about with open windows, 
flowers in the fields, and birds singing." 



"SHAWL STRAPS." 221 

Their fellow-boarders were most amusing, and 
as soon as they began to stammer in French they 
got along very well. The simple inhabitants were 
great fun to them, and Louisa noticed with much 
interest that it was the women who did all the hard 
work. 

" They not only kept house, reared children, and 
knit every imaginable garment the human frame 
can wear, but kept the shops and the markets, tilled 
the gardens, cleaned the streets, and bought and 
sold cattle, leaving the men free to enjoy the only 
pursuits they seemed inclined to follow — breaking 
horses, mending roads, and getting drunk. ... It 
took two deliberate men nearly a week to split the 
gnarled logs [wood for Madame Coste], and one 
brisk woman carried them into the cellar and piled 
them neatly. The men stopped about once an hour 
to smoke, drink cider, or rest. The woman worked 
steadily from morning till night, only pausing at 
noon for a bit of bread and the soup good Coste 
sent out to her. . . . This same capable lady used 
to come to market with a baby on one arm, a basket 
of fruit on the other, leading a pig, driving a don- 
key, and surrounded by sheep, while her head bore- 
a pannier of vegetables, and her hands spun busily 
with a distaff. How she ever got on with these 
trifling encumbrances was a mystery; but there she 
was, busy, placid and smiling, in the midst of the 
crowd, and at night went home with her shopping, 
well content." 



222 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

During those early weeks Louisa rested, while 
the others did the exploring and had funny adven- 
tures; but presently the mild air, the out-of-door 
life, and beyond all, the calm and quiet of this beau- 
tiful foreign country, where no one knew she was 
an authoress, and many had never even heard of 
" Little Women " — all these happy conditions made 
her feel like a new person, and she was soon able to 
join in the fun with all her old-time energy. The 
simple peasant life in the little Breton villages gave 
her much pleasure, and the three spent some happy 
days wandering at will, over the lovely surround- 
ings. There were many things to attract them; 
beautiful woods full of alluring paths, ruined castles, 
quaint churches and chapels — all choice bits for 
May's artistic appetite to feed upon, while Louisa 
enjoyed studying these new scenes and new people. 

The donkeys of Dinan interested her quite as 
much as the people, and in " Shawl Straps " she 
gives us a humorous description of their adventures 
with these small animals. When they took don- 
key drives she tells us : " The cavalcade on such oc- 
casions was an imposing spectacle. Matilda, being 
fond of horses, likewise affected donkeys (or 
thought she did till she tried to drive one) and usu- 
ally went first in a small vehicle drawn by an ani- 
mal who looked about the size of a mouse, when 
the stately Mat, in full array, yellow parasol, long 
whip, camp stool and sketchbook, sat bolt upright 
on her perch, driving in the most approved manner. 



"SHAWL STRAPS." 223 

The small beast, after much whipping, would break 
into a trot, and go pattering over the hard white 
road, with his long ears wagging, and his tiny hoofs 
raising a great dust for the benefit of the other 
turn-out just behind. 

•' In a double chair sat Lavinia, bundled up as 
usual, and the amiable Amanda, both flushed with 
constant pokings and thrashings of their steed. A 
venerable ass, so like an old whity-brown hair trunk 
as to his body, and Nick Bottom's mask as to his 
head, that he was a constant source of mirth to the 
ladies. Mild and venerable as he looked, however, 
he was a most incorrigible beast, and it took two 
immortal souls, and four arms, to get the ancient 
donkey along. , . . Matilda got on better, for 
little Bernard du Guesclin, as she named her mouse, 
was so very small that she could take him up and 
turn him round bodily when other means failed, or 
pull him half into the chair if danger threatened in 
front. He was a sprightly little fellow, and had 
not yet lost all the ardor of youth, or developed the 
fiendish obstinacy of his kind; so he frequently ran 
little races, now and then pranced, and was not 
quite dead to the emotion of gratitude for bits of 
bread. 

" Truly, yes ; the fair Mat, wnth her five feet 
seven inches, and little Bernard, whose longest ear 
when most erect did not reach much above her waist, 
were a sweet pair of friends, and caused her mates 
great amusement. 



224 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

" ' I must have some one to play with, for I can't 
improve my mind all the time, as Mandy does, or 
cuddle and doze like Livy. I've had experience 
with young donkeys of all sorts, and I give you my 
word little Bernie is much better fun than some I've 
known with shorter ears and fewer legs.' 

" Thus Matilda, regardless of the jeers of her 
friends when they proposed having the small beast 
into the salon to beguile the tedium of a rainy day." 

Louisa's home letters from Dinan are all very 
delightful, usually to the family, for she was not 
well enough yet to do regular correspondence. In 
a postscript to a letter dated May 30, 1870, she 
writes : 

" No news except through Niles, who yesterday 
sent me a nice letter with July account of $6212, a 
neat little sum for * the Alcotts, who can't make 
money!' With $10,000 well invested^ and more 
coming in all the time, I think we may venture to 
enjoy ourselves, after the hard times we have all 
had. The cream of the joke is that we made our 
own money ourselves, and no one gave us a blessed 
penny." 

Brittany was so entrancing that they would have 
loved to stay longer in this happy spot; but they 
had limited themselves to a year of travel, and two 
months was all they could spare of their precious 
time. It was a pretty journey through the Breton 
country, with its wealth of summer foliage and 
flowers. They went from Dinan to Geneva, skim- 



"SHAWL STRAPS." 225 

ming through France on the way, stopping at St. 
Malo, Le Mans, Tours, Amboise, and Blois, Or- 
leans, Nevers and Antrim. 

At Tours they halted for several days, finding it 
a most interesting spot, especially the cathedral. 

" May has done the church for you," writes 
Louisa to her father ; " and I send the photograph 
to give some idea of it. The inside is very 
beautiful ; and we go at sunset to see the red light 
make the gray walls lovely outside, and the shadows 
steal from chapel to chapel inside, filling the great 
church with what is really ' a dim, religious 
gloom.' " 

At Amboise they saw the castle where Charles 
VIII was born, and the terrace where the poor 
Huguenots were strung up, while the gay court 
looked on and enjoyed the sight ; also the little, low 
door, where Anne of Brittany's first husband, this 
very Charles VIII, " bumped his head " and killed 
himself, as he was running through to play bowls 
with his wife. It was in this same castle that Mar- 
garet of Anjou and her son were reconciled to War- 
wick during the War of the Roses. 

At Blois they found a castle full of historic inter- 
est, and records of the dark deeds of the terrible 
Catherine de Medici and her weak son, Henry III. 

They stopped in Orleans for a day to get some 
relics of Jeanne D'Arc, and saw the famous statue 
of the Maid, put up in gratitude by the people of 
the city she saved. 



226 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Their resting-place was Geneva. " We are at 
the Metropole Hotel," Louisa writes, " right on the 
Lake, with a glimpse of Mont Blanc from our win- 
dows." 

They were detained in Switzerland by the Franco- 
Prussian War, which interfered with their letters 
home and made traveling rather hard. In July, 
1870, she wrote to Anna: 

" The war along the Rhine is sending troops of 
travelers to Switzerland for refuge ; and all the large 
towns are brimful of people flying from Germany. 
It won't trouble us, for we have done France, and 
don't mean to do Germany. So when August is 
over, we shall trot forward to Italy and find a warm 
place for our winter quarters. At any time, twenty- 
four hours carries us over the Simplon, so we sit 
at ease, and don't care a straw for old France and 
Prussia. Russia, it is reported, has joined in the 
fight, but Italy and England are not going to med- 
dle, so we can fly to either ' in case of fire.' " 

This last quoted sentence, Mrs. Cheney tells us, 
was " a family joke, as Mrs. Alcott always ended 
her instructions to her children * in case of fire.' " 
It was, indeed, the same motherly forethought which 
prompted Mi's. March to call out of the window, 
as Meg and Jo went to the party : " Girls — girls — 
have you clean pocket-handkerchiefs ? " And many 
of Mrs. Alcott's quaint sayings have reappeared in 
one after the other of her daughter's stories. 

Dickens's death occurred while they were at Bex, 



"SHAWL STRAPS." 227 

and Louisa mourned most sincerely, though she says 
truthfully : " I shall miss my old Charlie, but he is 
not the old idol he once was." It was about this 
time that Mr. Higginson and a little girl friend 
put together the " Operatic Tragedy " in " Little 
Women," and set the songs to music for Our 
Young Folks, and Miss Alcott herself, even in her 
security beyond the seas, began to be besieged by 
eager magazines and papers for contributions. 
Poor Louisa was in despair. 

" Dear Mr. Niles," she wrote her faithful pub- 
lisher, " I keep receiving requests from editors to 
write for their papers and magazines. I am truly 
grateful, but having come abroad for rest, I am not 
inclined to try the treadmill till my year's vacation 
is over; so to appease these worthy gentlemen and 
excuse my seeming idleness, I send you a trifle in 
rhyme, which you can (if you think it worth the 
trouble) set going, as a general answer to every- 
body." 

The clever poem of thirty-one verses is too long 
to quote fully, but some of it may prove most amus- 
ing. Louisa called her jingle — indeed it was little 
more, — 

The Lay of a Golden Goose. 

Long ago in a poultry yard, 

One dull November morn, 
Beneath a motherly soft wing, 

A little goose was bom. 



228 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Who straightway peeped out of the shell 
To view the world beyond, 

Longing at once to sally forth, 
And paddle in the pond. 

"Oh! be not rash," her father said, 

A mild Socratic bird; 
Her mother begged her not to stray, 

With many a warning word. 

But little goosey was perverse 

And eagerly did cry, 
"I've got a lovely pair of wings — 

Of course I ought to fly." 

In vain parental cacklings, 
In vain the cold sky's frown, 

Ambitious goosey tried to soar, 
But always tumbled down. 

Hard times she had, as one may guess, 

That young aspiring bird. 
Who still from every fall arose. 

Saddened — but undeterred. 

But something stronger than herself, 
Would cry, "Go on — go on! 

Remember, though an humble fowl, 
You're cousin to a swan." 

So up and down poor goosey went, 

A busy hopeful bird. 
Searched many wide, unfruitful fields, 

And many waters stirred. 



"SHAWL STRAPS." 22Q 

At length she came unto a stream, 

Most fertile of all Niles, 
Where tuneful birds might soar and sing 

Among the leafy isles. 

Here did she build a little nest, 

Beside the waters still, 
Where the parent goose could rest, 

Unvexed by any bill. 

And here she paused to smooth her plumes, 

Ruffled by many plagues, 
When suddenly arose the cry, 

"This goose lays golden eggs!" 

Miss Alcott devotes several verses to the excite- 
ment in the poultry-yard after this discovery. All 
the proud and haughty fowls begin to take notice 
of the poor, despised goose, and would have kept her 
laying new eggs all the time. 

But best of all — the litde fowls, 

Still playing on the shore, 
Soft downy chicks and goslings gay, 

Chirped out "Dear goose, lay more." 

But goosey, all these weary years, 

Had toiled like any ant. 
And wearied out she now replied, 

"My little dears, I can't." 



230 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

So to escape too many friends 
Without uncivil strife, 

She ran to the Atlantic pond, 
And paddled for her life. 



But still across the briny deep, 

Couched in most friendly words, 
Came prayers for letters, tales or verse, 

From literary birds. 

Whereat the renovated fowl, 

With grateful thanks profuse, 
Took from her wing a quill, and wrote 

This Lay of a Golden Goose. 

This was written at Bex, and later the three 
travelers went to Vevey, a spot so full of memories 
to Louisa; the days when she rowed on the lake, 
walked, or drove about with her gallant Polish boy, 
all came vividly back to her. She had lost sight of 
him for a while. She did not even know then, as 
she did later, that he was still alive, and there were 
times when she wandered sadly about their old 
haunts; for Louisa despite her eight-and-thirty 
winters, was as romantic as a girl about her many 
friendships. 

They stayed at Vevey until September, then they 
took a wonderful journey through the heart of the 
Alps into Italy. " Crossing the Simplon alone was 
an experience worth having," she writes to her 
mother, and she goes on with a brilliant description 



"SHAWL STRAPS." 231 

of the gorges, the snow-capped mountain peaks ris- 
ing about them, all bathed in the moonlight. In 
the early part of November, refreshed by a summer 
so full of rest and beauty, the travelers found them- 
selves in Rome. May immediately planned her 
winter's work. They secured a pleasant apartment 
of six rooms, for a moderate price, and set up house- 
keeping with a maid, intending to be very happy and 
comfortable for the next few^ months. The trip had 
thus far been a success. Louisa had gone away a 
nervous invalid; in Rome she hardly knew herself, 
her strength had come slowly back to her, and she 
was beginning to think seriously of more literary 
work. Then, with a sudden shock, came the news 
of the death of John Pratt, and Louisa realized to 
the full what a void the absence of this well-beloved 
brother would make in their lives. 

This blow turned her thoughts toward home, but 
they took shape in writing, for the widowed sister 
and the fatherless nephews must never be allowed a 
moment's w^ant. So her grief, as usual, found solace 
in the work she loved, and the result was a book 
that has lived for many generations in the hearts of 
boys and girls. But " Little Men " needs a chapter 
of its own. 



16 




CHAPTER XIV. 

THE BIRTH OF " LITTLE MEN." 

HE death of John Pratt was the second 
great sorrow in Louisa's life. The serene 
and quiet nature of the man had won its 
place and held it in the warm hearts of 
the Alcott family, and they mourned for him as for 
one of their very own. He had been close to them 
in their first trial; his gentle hands had helped to 
carry Beth to her last resting place; his strong arm 
had been something for Anna to lean upon when it 
all had seemed so hard to bear, and his love had 
been like the warmth of the sun. His sudden death 
left them stunned, but Anna was the true daughter 
of a philosopher ; she gathered her two precious lit- 
tle boys close to her heart, saying: " I will Hve for 
them, and make them happy." She smiled bravely 
through her tears, and made her grief a sacred 
memory, which stayed with her always. 

John Pratt was a living presence in his household, 
and Louisa has drawn such a fine portrait of him 
that he will not be forgotten by others. " Now 
that John is dead," she writes in her journal, " I 
can truly say we all had cause to bless the day he 

232 



THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 233 

came into the family, for we gained a son and 
brother, and Anna, the best husband ever known. 
For ten years he made her home a Httle heaven of 
love and peace; and when he died, he left her the 
legacy of a beautiful life, and an honest name to his 
little sons." 

John Brooke is known and loved by every reader 
of " Little Women," and his memory is revered 
and honored by every reader of " Little Men," for 
Louisa wrote the book far away in Rome, wnth her 
heart full of this new grief. She says in her journal 
of 1871: 

" Began to write a new book — ' Little Men,' that 
John's death may not leave Anna and the dear little 
boys in want. John took care that they should 
have enough while the boys are young, and worked 
very hard to have a little sum to leave, without a 
debt anywhere. 

" In writing and thinking of the little lads to 
whom I must be a father now, I found comfort for 
my sorrow." 

In " Little Men " she has given us a chapter to 
the memory of this dearly loved brother, a beautiful 
chapter, w-hich has been better than a sermon to 
many boys. It is here that Miss Alcott's great gift 
lies, she wrote of what lay closest to her heart. That 
which interested her keenly as a girl, she knew 
would interest other girls, and so the intimate fam- 
ily life of the Alcotts, all the trials and the strug- 
gles, all the joys, the sorrows, the successes and 



234 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

disappointments, were frankly told, that other 
struggling girls might take courage and go for- 
ward. Their varied experiences, often humorous, 
sometimes pathetic, were given without reserve, 
and told in such a way that others might profit by 
them. So in the character of John Brooke she has 
paid rich tribute to John Pratt. 

Speaking of his death, Mr. Bhaer tells the boys 
at Plumfield : " He was ill only a few hours, and 
died as he had lived, so cheerfully, so peacefully, 
that it seems a sin to mar the beauty of it with any 
violent or selfish grief." 

There is a touching description of the simple 
funeral : 

" The little house looked as quiet, sunny, and 
homelike as when Meg entered it a bride, ten years 
ago, only then it was early summer, and roses 
bloomed everywhere ; now it was early autumn, and 
dead leaves rustled softly down, leaving the 
branches bare. The bride was a widow now; but 
the same beautiful serenity shone in her face, and 
the sweet resignation of a truly pious soul made her 
presence a consolation to those who came to com- 
fort her. 

". . . One would have said that modest John 
Brooke, in his busy, quiet, humble life, had had little 
time to make friends; but now they seemed to start 
up everywhere; old and young, rich and poor, high 
and low ; for, all unconsciously, his influence had 
made itself widely felt, his virtues were remem- 



THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 235 

bered, and his hidden charities rose up to bless 
him." 

yVftervvards, when the Phimfield lads were talk- 
ing of the dead man, /acA', the commercial one, said: 

" He wasn't rich, was he?" 

" No." 

" He never did anything to make a stir in the 
world, did he ? " 

" No." 

" He was only good ? " 

" That's all. ..." 

" Only good. That is all, and everything," said 
Mr. Bhacr, who had overheard the last few words, 
and guessed what was going on in the minds of the 
lads. 

And then Louisa put into the mouth of her Pro- 
fessor all the love and admiration so beautiful a 
life had called forth. 

" Yes," he said, " simple, genuine goodness is 
the best capital to found the business of this life 
upon. It lasts when fame and money fail, and is 
the only riches we can take out of this world with 
us. Remember that, my boys, and if you want to 
earn respect and confidence and love, follow in the 
footsteps of John Brooke." 

Just as Mr. Bhaer impressed the little men at 
Plumfield, so the little men all over the world have 
taken the lesson to heart, for Louisa Alcott preached 
her sermons from the portals of her own home, 
which she flung wide that all might enter. 



236 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Truly " Little Men " was a labor of love. She 
dedicated the book to her nephews : 

To 

FREDDY AND JOHNNY,, 

The Little Men 

To whom she owes some of the best 

and happiest hours of her life. 

This book is gratefully dedicated 

By their loving- 

" Aunt Weedy." 

They are big men now, with families of their 
own, but the simple dedication no doubt is of more 
value to them than the finest poem. 

The chapter about John Brooke is the only sad 
and sober part of " Little Men." There is always a 
streak of earnestness underlying even the pranks 
and plays at Plumfield, but from the time poor 
ragged Nat entered the hospitable gates, we begin 
to feel the breeziness and fun, that contact with 
boys always brought out in Louisa herself. 

We meet a great many old friends at the Bhaer's 
school. First and foremost, Jo, a grown-up, moth- 
erly Jo, with still the spirit of a boy behind the 
" bib and tucker," a jolly, lovable, tender, whole- 
some Jo, living her girlhood over in the lives of the 
boys and girls about her. There's the dear old 
Professor, too, for whom, in spite of our disappoint- 



THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 237 

ment over Laurie, we begin to have a warm affec- 
tion, and his two nephews, Franz and Emil. 

Daisy and Demi have walked out of babyhood 
into the Plumfield school, and their characters stand 
forth well-defined, for Miss Alcott was at her best 
when she had a living subject of her canvas. The 
little twins are really her two nephews, and are true 
portraits, as she tells us herself. Uncle Laurie and 
Aunt Amy are the fairy god-parents, whose coming 
is always hailed with delight, and little Goldilocks 
we have also met before, while in the background 
Aunt Meg, old Mr. Laurence, and Mr. and Mrs. 
March awake fond recollections of " Little Wom- 
en." Even Nurscy Hummel is a memory, and takes 
us back to that Christmas day when the March girls 
gave up their breakfast to the poor, starving 
German family. 

There are many new faces, foremost among them 
Tommy Bangs, Naughty Nan, and Dan, the wild 
young colt of a boy, with a spirit easily tamed by 
love and kindness. There are little dashes of truth 
in all these characters. Naughty Nan was Louisa 
herself in her romping little girlhood, and many of 
her pranks could be traced back to the very heart 
of the Alcott family. Tommy Bangs was a dozen 
of her pet boys rolled into one ; but Dan was the 
sort of boy who touched her most. Sullen, rough, 
hard to manage, but with a streak of gold beneath 
all the grime of the streets, where his early life 
had been spent. 



238 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Miss Alcott loved this Dan, and in " Jo's Boys," 
the last long story she gave us, we find a grown-up 
Dan, a big, lonely, pathetic figure to the very end 
where he dies for his chosen people. 

Because she was interested, the writing of " Lit- 
tle Men '' went quickly. Indeed, her best work was 
always done " in a vortex," as she expressed it, and 
before she had left Rome the story was safe in 
America, in the hands of her publishers. The trav- 
eling party finished their tour as they had planned. 
Louisa enjoyed Rome in her own way, while May 
went on with her art studies, learning, as she her- 
self expressed it, " how little she knew, and how to 
go on." 

We find this entry in her journal : " Rome — great 
inundation. Streets flooded, churches with four feet 
of water in them, and queer times for those who 
were in the overflowed quarters. Meals hoisted up 
at the window, people carried across the river-like 
streets to make calls; and all manner of funny 
doings. We were high and dry at Piazza Barbarini 
[the name of their home] and enjoyed the flurry. 

" To the capital often to spend the a.m. with the 
Roman emperors and other great men. Marcus 
Aurelius as a boy was fine; Cicero looked very like 
Wendell Phillips; Agrippina in her chair — was 
charming; but the other ladies, with hair a la 
sponge — were ugly; Nero & Co., a set of brutes 
and bad men. But a better sight to me was the 
crowd of poor people going to get the bread and 



THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 239 

money sent by the king; and the splendid snow- 
covered hills were finer than the marble beauty in- 
side. Art tires, Nature never." 

In the early days of struggle and poverty, poor 
Louisa had to pull dow^n her castles in the air, story 
by story ; now, with money coming in from a dozen 
different sources, she found she could enlarge her 
plans, and as she had just received the goodly sum 
of seven hundred dollars from " Moods," and was 
expecting many thousands from the sale of " Little 
Men," she decided to leave May abroad for another 
year, free from care, and able to devote herself to 
her beloved art. 

So they picked up their belongings and spent the 
month of ]\Iarch at Albano, a lovely spot, w'here 
Louisa could w^alk and write and rest, and enjoy 
the adventures of the two girls, which she describes 
in " Shawl Straps " in her own quaint way. 

They had attracted the attention of some romantic 
looking cavalry officers, and Louisa, greatly amused, 
was forced, nevertheless, to play the stern chape- 
ron. As Laz'iiiia, she takes the elderly tone of 
the stern chaperon. 

" I'm going to Venice next week," she says, " so 
you may as well make up your minds to it, girls. 
... I should never dare to go home and say that 
Mat had run away with a man as handsome as Jove 
and as poor as Job. Amanda's indignant relatives 
would rise up and stone me if I let her canter into 
matrimony with the fascinating Colonel. . . . They 



240 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

must be torn away at once, or my character as 
duenna is lost forever." 

In April, they enjoyed two ideal weeks " floating 
about " in Venice, and May found them in London, 
Mdiere they took pleasant lodgings and went sight- 
seeing. Their friend and traveling companion sailed 
for America on the eleventh, and Miss Alcott de- 
cided to go on the twenty-fifth, as she was needed 
at home. " Little Men " was published in London 
before she left. 

Altogether the year of travel had been successful 
and pleasant. Louisa had enjoyed the freedom from 
small cares and the delightful society in which they 
found themselves, for the author of " Little Wom- 
en " had a warm welcome everywhere. The two 
younger girls were made much of and petted, and 
May's talent brought her into close association with 
the foremost painters and sculptors of the day. 
John Ruskin was much interested in her copies of 
the great Turner masterpieces, and warmly praised 
her color and style. 

But in spite of all these attractions, Louisa's 
health was much the same; pain haunted her days, 
sleeplessness troubled her nights; her naturally 
lively disposition and hopeful spirit kept her going, 
and perhaps it was as well that she could forget her 
aches in the distraction of new scenes. She had a 
most unpleasant voyage home. Smallpox broke 
out on board, and her cabin companion was struck 
down. 



THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 241 

" I escaped," she writes in her journal, " but had 
a sober time lying next door to her, waiting to see 
if my turn was to come." 

It took her twelve days to get home, and her 
father and Mr. Niles were on hand to meet her, with 
a great red placard announcing the publication of 
" Little Men " pinned up in the carriage, and the 
joyful tidings that fifty thousand of the books had 
been sold before it was out. 

The book was certainly very popular, for every 
reader of " Little Women " must, of course, have 
" Little Men," and besides — there was a certain 
type of " small boy " who had probably never read 
" Little Women," boys of her nephews' age, or per- 
haps a little older, {it was a story calculated to 
please all sizes and ages. ' There w^ere chapters for 
the quiet ones, the studious ones, the gay ones and 
the sober ones. In the chapter called " Pranks and 
Plays " Mrs. Jo, herself, says : 

*' I beg leave to assure my honored readers that 
most of the incidents are taken from real life, and 
that the oddest are the truest; for no person, no 
matter how vivid an imagination he may have, can 
invent anything half so droll as the freaks and 
fancies that originate in the lively brains of little 
people." 

The " Kitty-mouse and the ' sackerryfice' " was 
famous among the Alcott girls and their friends, 
and " Brops " was another absorbing play. " The 
Brops," Miss Alcott tells us, " is a winged quad- 



242 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

ruped with a human face of a youthful and merry- 
aspect. When it walks the earth it grunts, when 
it soars it gives a shrill hoot; occasionally it goes 
erect, and talks good English. Its body is usually 
covered with a substance much resembling a shawl, 
sometimes red, sometimes blue, often plaid, and 
strange to say — they frequently change skins with 
one another. On their heads they have a horn very 
like a stiff brown-paper lamplighter. Wings of the 
same substance flap from their shoulders when they 
fly ; this is never very far from the ground, as they 
usually fall with violence if they attempt any lofty 
flights. They browse over the earth, but can sit 
up and eat like the squirrel. Their favorite nourish- 
ment is the seed cake; apples also are freely taken, 
and sometimes raw carrots are nibbled when food 
is scarce. They live in dens, where they have a sort 
of nest, much like a clothes-basket, in which the 
little Brops play till their wings are grown. 
These singular animals quarrel at times, and it is 
on these occasions that they burst into human 
speech, call each other names, cry, scold, and some- 
times tear off horns and skin, declaring fiercely that 
they * won't play.' ..." 

This game was a great favorite, and the younger 
children beguiled many a rainy afternoon flapping 
or creeping about the nursery, acting like little bed- 
lamites, and being as merry as little grigs. To be 
sure it was rather hard upon clothes, particularly 
trouser knees and jacket elbows; but Mrs. Bhaer 



THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 243 

only said, as she patched and darned — she was al- 
ways patching and darning — good Mother Bhacr. 

" Wc do things just as foolish and not half so 
harmless. If I could get as much happiness out of 
it as the little dears do, I'd be a Brop myself." 

There is something very sweet and true in the 
book, though you cannot lay your hand on the 
thread of a story, yet each chapter has its special 
center of interest, and with the exception of " Lit- 
tle Women," it is the most popular of Miss Alcott's 
books. It is nearly forty years since the birth of 
" Little Men," and many of the little men who read 
it then have grown sons now who read it in their 
turn, and many of a later generation are reading 
it, indeed, in the same dilapidated volumes that their 
fathers pored over, with the same thumb marks, the 
same dog-eared pages, the same favorite, much- 
worn spots. 

But the children of to-day have the advantage 
over the earlier readers, for those first publica- 
tions were unattractive little volumes, with the most 
ridiculous pictures. Those pictures were bitter pills 
to poor Louisa, who had artistic ideas, even though 
no artist herself, but as the)' made no difference 
in the sale of the book, she put up with them, 
though she wailed to her publishers. It was many 
years later before a real artist, with some under- 
standing of children, came to her help. This was 
Mary Halleck Foote, whose fine drawings are no 
less famous than her beautiful stories. 



244 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

In 1877, six years after the publication of " Lit- 
tle Men," Louisa wrote to Mrs. Dodge of St. 
Nicholas, about " Under the Lilacs," which she was 
writing as a serial for that magazine: 

" I will send you the first few chapters during the 
week, for Mrs. Foote [for illustration], and with 
them the schedule you suggest, so that my infants 
may not be drawn with whiskers, and my big boys 
and girls in pinafores, as in * Eight Cousins.' I 
hope the new baby won't be set aside too soon for 
my illustrations, but I do feel a natural wish to have 
one story prettily adorned with good pictures, as, 
hitherto, artists have much afflicted me. ... I shall 
expect the small tots to be unusually good, since the 
artist has a live model to study from. Please pre- 
sent my congratulations to the happy mamma and 
Mr. Foote, Jr. Yours zvarmly, 

" L. M. A.'' 

This was part of a letter written from Concord 
on June 3d, and the summer heat of the good little 
town was often unendurable. 

But as years went on, publishers began to think 
a little about the " make up " of a book, so that 
pretty covers and interesting pictures might count 
for something, and the more recent editions of Miss 
Alcott's books show a great improvement, in which 
no one would have rejoiced more sincerely than the 
author herself. " Little Men " in particular has 
passed through the hands of Reginald Birch, who 



THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 245 

has adorned it with a host of pretty, chubby chil- 
dren, black-stockinged httle boys and girls, and 
even the heavy-browed " rough-and-tumble " Da)i 
has lost his terrors ; many " old-timers " regret this, 
for he was a most delightful and blood-curdling vil- 
lain according to the other pictures. 

Louisa found that her fame had only slumbered 
during the year of travel. The new book made her 
more sought after than ever, and it took all her 
cleverness to dodge the people who would make a 
" lioness " of her. 

She found her mother very feeble and much aged 
by this last trouble. Though she had made no com- 
plaint, she had sadly missed her two daughters, and 
Louisa determined never to go far away from her 
again. 

" Nan — well and calm," she writes in her journal, 
" but under her sweet serenity is a very sad soul, 
and she mourns for her mate like a tender turtle- 
dove. 

" The boys are tall, bright lads, devoted to Mar- 
mee, and the life of the house. . . . Much company 
and loads of letters, all full of good wishes and 
welcome. . . . 

" A happy month, for I felt well for the first time 
in two years. I knew it wouldn't last, but enjoyed 
it heartily while it did, and. was grateful for rest 
from pain and a touch of the old cheerfulness. It 
was much needed at home." 

But July, August, and September were trying 



246 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

months, with too much company and care, and the 
death of her favorite uncle. Dr. S. J. May, helped 
to upset the poor nerves again. In October she 
w^ent to Boston, for, from the time her health began 
to fail. Concord never agreed with her. 

It was nearly ten years since Louisa, a hearty, 
healthy, energetic young woman, had set bravely 
forth, to serve her country at the hospital ; and since 
that time she had never drawn a well breath, though 
she had fought for health as bravely as any soldier 
for freedom. 

She would not give up — that was the trouble. 
Deprived of bodily strength, that active, vigorous 
mind of hers worked harder than ever, and this was 
bad for her though she did not recognize it then. 
She was always *' keyed up " to some great effort ; 
her family looked to her as their mainstay ; the pub- 
lic demanded story after story; the children in par- 
ticular were never satisfied, and the luxury of a 
private secretary and a typewriter was not dreamed 
of in those days. She not only thought out her 
stories, but she wrote them out, until the pen some- 
times dropped from the cramped fingers. Poor 
Louisa ! when she had health and strength, she had 
nothing else but hope. Now she had everything but 
health and strength, even hope would not be 
quenched, though the tired nerves nearly gave up 
hoping sometimes. Then would come a bright, 
grateful letter from some jolly girl or boy, which 
pleased her more than all the calls and requests 



THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 247 

for autographs, and she would think the pain and 
trouble worth while, if they brought her such re- 
wards. 

" Little Men " proved a great lump of added 
prosperity. The first thing she did was to set aside 
a sum for Anna and the boys, to be invested in a 
home later on. Then she planned comforts for the 
old house in Concord, while she " rested up " in 
Boston, enjoying people, pictures, plays, reading all 
she could, and trying to forget the aching bones. 

In November, she writes in her journal : " May 
sent pleasant letters and some fine copies of Turner. 
She decides to come home as she feels she is needed, 
as I give out. Marmee is feeble, Nan has her boys 
and her sorrow, and one strong head and hand is 
wanted at home. A year and a half of holiday is 
a good deal, and duty comes first always. Sorry to 
call her back, but her eyes are troublesome, and 
housework will rest them and set her up. Then 
she can go again when I am better, for I don't want 
her to be thwarted in her work more than just 
enough to make her want it very much." 

She came back to them like a streak of sunlight, 
bringing new life into the quiet house. There was 
something radiant about May Alcott, which was her 
peculiar charm. Unlike Louisa, she never lost a 
certain air of youth, which shone in her fair face 
and golden hair, her vivacity, and her light springi- 
ness of motion. She was a girl always, and her 
sister took great pride in her and her beautiful work. 
17 



248 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

In December, she writes, evidently from Boston: 
" Enjoyed my quiet, sunny room very much, and 
this lazy life seems to suit me, for I am better, mind 
and body. All goes well at home, with May to run 
the machine in her cheery, energetic style, and 
amuse Marmee and Nan with gay histories. Had 
a furnace put in, and all enjoyed the new climate. 
No more rheumatic fevers and colds, with pictur- 
esque open fires. Mother is to be cozy if money 
can do it. She seems to be now, and my long-cher- 
ished dream has come true; for she sits in a pleas- 
ant room, with no work, no care, no poverty to 
worry, but peace and comfort all about her, and 
children, glad and able to stand between trouble 
and her. Thank the Lord! I like to stop and re- 
member my mercies. Working and waiting for 
them makes them very welcome." 

Indeed, if the early life of hardship and privation 
had not told upon her, " Marmee " would have been 
blessed above most women. She had surely earned 
her reward, and seventy years is really but the be- 
ginning of old age, but like Louisa, her energy had 
far outrun her strength, and she was a feeble old 
lady long before her time. 

This holiday season was bravely kept up by the 
Alcotts; grief was never nursed and fostered among 
them, and so Louisa tells us of " a merry Christmas 
at home, with a tree for the boys, a family dinner, 
and frolic in the evening." 

There were hosts of young cousins from Boston 



THE BIRTH OF "LITTLE MEN." 249 

who were continually dropping in upon them ; there 
was coasting, and skating on the frozen Concord 
River ; there were tramps in the keen winter air, led 
by energetic May, while Louisa, from her home 
nest, sighed longingly for the fun. She knew every 
rivulet, every frozen, winding path through the Con- 
cord woods, and many a time, I fear, she cast pru- 
dence to the winds and went with the others ; but of 
this there is no record. However, when they frol- 
icked at night, she it was who planned the games, 
arranged charades, and gave them convulsing char- 
acter sketches, sparing not even the grave philoso- 
phers, who enjoyed it all as much as the youngest 
revelers. 

" A varied, but on the whole, a good year, in 
spite of pain," she writes. " Last Christmas we 
were in Rome, mourning for John. What will next 
Christmas bring forth? I have no ambition now 
but to keep the family comfortable and not ache any 
more. Pain has taught me patience, I hope — if 
nothing else." 

January, 1872, came in laden with royalties, for 
" Little Women " and " Little Men " alone were 
coining money, and old-fashioned Polly was close 
behind in popularity. " More, more, more ! " cried 
the greedy public. " More, more, more ! " echoed 
the greedier children, and Louisa, who always lis- 
tened to her children, wrung her hands and wished 
she had stayed abroad another year. Her admirers 
still haunted her, and one infatuated unknown being 



250 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

began to send her daily offerings of lovely flowers, 
which flavor of romance and mystery she greatly 
enjoyed. 

During February and March, she wrote " Shawl 
Straps," which was first published in the Christian 
Union, and during April and May she writes : 

" Wrote another sketch for the Independent^ ' A 
French Wedding,' and the events of my travels paid 
my expenses. All is fish that comes to the literary 
net. Goethe put his joys and sorrows into poems; 
I turn my adventures into bread and butter. 

"June, 1872. Home — and begin a new task. 
Twenty years ago I resolved to make the family 
independent, if I could. At forty [not quite, Louisa, 
if you are accurate] that is done. Debts are paid 
. . . and we have enough to be comfortable. It has 
cost me my health, perhaps, but as I still live, there 
is more for me to do, I suppose." 

And so there was, hundreds of stories to be writ- 
ten, many sweet little heroes and heroines to go into 
a big world of readers and hold lasting places in 
their hearts, struggling fellow-workers to be helped 
by word and deed, a thousand unnamed kindnesses 
to be scattered broadcast, without thought of thanks 
or reward. A sister she was to all struggling girls 
and boys, the ruling spirit of her home, a strong 
prop for Anna in her loneliness, and a real father, 
as she promised to be, to her " little men." 



CHAPTER XV. 



PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 




AD Louisa been willing* to supply the 
demand for books and stories, she would 
have found it simply impossible, for 
there was scarcely an editor or a pub- 
lisher who would not have paid a great deal for 
anything she wrote. Had she lived in these days 
she could have kept several secretaries and type- 
writers busily employed, while she went from one 
to the other dashing off her stories. But she was 
too independent for that sort of thing. We must 
bear in mind that the Goose she mentions in her 
poem not only laid the golden eggs, but hatched 
them ; and so with Louisa during the next six years, 
she not only planned her stories, but she prepared 
them for publication, and in the case of " Work " 
she wrote three pages at once on impression paper 
— one for Henry Ward Beecher, who had ordered 
the story as a serial for the Christian Union; one 
for Roberts Brothers, who were waiting to publish 
it in book form, and the third for Low & Com- 
pany of London, for her books were now in great 
demand in England. From this exploit she had 

251 



252 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

paralysis of her thumb, from which .she never re- 
covered. 

" Work " was a story with a history. When Mr. 
Beecher asked for a serial, Louisa remembered a 
tale she had commenced years ago and had named 
" Success." She had put it aside and forgotten it 
in the hurry of other matters, but now she took it 
from its pigeonhole and considered it seriously. 
Christie Devon was good material to build upon. 
Through this heroine she could tell much of her 
own life and struggles, and as the Christian Union 
offered her three thousand dollars for the com- 
pleted manuscript, advancing a thousand dollars 
as a seal to the bargain, she could not resist. She 
says in her journal : 

" Fired up the engine and plunged into a vortex, 
with many doubts about getting out. Can't work 
slowly; the thing possesses me, and I must obey till 
it's done, ... so I was bound, and sat at the oar 
like a galley slave." 

May took charge of things at home during the 
summer and fall of 1872, making a charming hos- 
tess to the innumerable guests who invaded Orchard 
House, while the hunted authoress " flew around 
behind the scenes or skipped out of the back win- 
dow when ordered out for inspection by the inquisi- 
tive public. . . . 

" Reporters sit on the wall and take notes, ar- 
tists sketch me as I pick pears in the garden, and 
strange women interview Johnny as he plays in the 



PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 253 

orchard. It looks like impertinent curiosity to me, 
but it is called ' fame ' and considered a blessing to 
be grateful for, I find. Let 'em try it." 

Again her trials as an authoress were vividly de- 
scribed by a few clever rhymes which she wrote at 
this time on the subject of fame: 

There is a town of high repute, 

Where saints and sages dwell. 
Who in these latter days are forced 

To bid sweet peace farewell. 
For all their men are demigods, 

So rumor doth declare, 
And all the women are De Staels, 

And genius fills the air. 

So eager pilgrims penetrate 

To their most private nooks, 
Storm their back doors in search of news, 

And interview their cooks. 
Worship at ev'ry victim's shrine, 

See halos round their hats, 
Embalm the chickweed from their yards, 

And photograph their cats. 

Alas! what can the poor souls do? 

Their homes are homes no more. 
No washing-day is sacred now, 

Spring cleaning's never o'er. 
Their doorsteps are the strangers' camp, 

Their trees bear many a name, 
Artists their very nightcaps sketch, 

And this — and this, is fame! 



254 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

" September. To Walcott with Father and Fred. 
A quaint, lovely old place is the little house on 
Spindle Hill, where the boy Amos dreamed the 
dreams that have come true at last. Got hints for 
my novel, ' The Cost of an Idea ' — if I ever have 
time to write it. 

" Don't wonder the boy longed to climb those 
hills and see what lay beyond." 

She never did write the novel, but after a glimpse 
of those " everlasting hills " and the old home, the 
simple story of her father's boyhood took root in 
her mind, and ** Eli's Education " was the result, a 
warm and loving memory of the studious country 
lad, whose ideals in early youth were no more beau- 
tiful or fair than those of the white-haired scholar, 
who still looked upward toward them. 

In October, Miss Alcott went to Boston. " I can't 
work at home," she says, " and need to be alone to 
spin like a spider. Rested; walked; to the theater 
now and then. Home once a week with books, etc., 
for Marmee and Nan. Prepared * Shawl Straps ' 
for Roberts." 

" November. Forty — on the 29th. Got Father 
off for the West, all neat and comfortable. I en- 
joyed every penny spent, and had a happy time 
packing his new trunk with warm flannels, neat 
shirts, gloves, etc., and seeing the dear man go off 
in a new suit, overcoat, hat, and all, like a gentle- 
man. We both laughed over the pathetic old times, 
with tears in our eyes, and I reminded him of the 



PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 255 

* poor as poverty, but serene as heaven ' saying." 
It was after her father's departure that she began 
" Work." Christie was an old friend, but the rough 
copy of bygone days was not to be considered, so 
she began at the beginning, " pulhng down and 
building up " as fast as she could. The old reck- 
less speed of fourteen hours a day could not be 
thought of now. Louisa was obliged to be prudent, 
she dared not let the " vortex " get the better of 
her; sleep and exercise were necessary, and regular 
meals a rule in the game ; consequently the story 
went forward at a slower pace. She writes in her 
journal, January, 1873 : 

" Getting on well with * Work ' ; have to go 
slowly for fear of a breakdown. . . . Roberts 
Brothers paid me over two thousand dollars for 
books. S. E. S. invested most of it with the thou- 
sand F. sent. Gave C. M. a hundred dollars, a 
thank offering for my success. I like to help the 
class of ' silent poor ' to which we belonged for so 
many years — needy, but respectable, and forgotten 
because too proud to beg. Work difficult to 
find for such people, and life made very hard 
for want of a little money to ease the necessary 
needs." 

In February, came an interruption in the shape of 
Anna's serious illness; she had pneumonia and came 
so very near dying that Mr. Alcott was sent for by 
the frightened family. 

" She gave me the boys," writes Louisa, " but 



256 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

the dear saint got well, and kept the lads for herself. 
Thank God! Back to my work with what wits 
nursing left me. 

" Had Johnny for a week to keep all quiet at 
home. Enjoyed the sweet little soul very much and 
sent him back much better." 

Children were a delight to Louisa, and her small 
nephews were a constant pleasure. She *' moth- 
ered " them quite as well as Anna herself, and no 
doubt Johnny's visit did her as much good as it 
did him. 

She finished " Work " by the end of March, hav- 
ing started in November. " Not quite what it 
should be," she says; "too many interruptions. 
Should like to do one book in peace, and see if it 
wouldn't be good." 

It pleased her readers, however. " Work " has 
always been a popular book, though much older in 
style than its predecessors. Had it been published 
before " Little Women," it certainly would not have 
pushed its author to the front, but coming as it did, 
in answer to the public demand, it was eagerly read, 
and many recognized at once how true to her own 
life and work was the character of Christie Devon ; 
strong of purpose, fearless in her determination to 
go forth and win for herself a place in the world. 
She shows Christie as she would have been, with 
no kith nor kin to shelter her when the battle turned 
against her. In many places the book is over- 
serious, and some of her younger readers criticised 



PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 257 

freely. The suicide of poor, crazy Helen Campbell 
disturbed them greatly, and Miss Alcott answered 
one of these plaintive wails : 

" I did not like the suicide in * Work,' " she wrote, 
" but as much of that chapter was true, I let it 
stand as a warning to several people who need it, 
to my knowledge, and to many whom I do not 
know. I have already had letters from strangers 
thanking me for it, so I am not sorry it went in. 
One must have both the light and dark side to paint 
life truly." 

" Work " contains twenty chapters, and takes 
Christie from her twenty-first birthday to her for- 
tieth, which puts the story at once a trifle out of 
the reach of " little men and women " ; the thought- 
ful girl, the sober boy from sixteen to twenty, will 
appreciate it, and older heads still see much that is 
fine and good in it. Louisa was writing her own 
biography, and from the time she was twenty-one 
she struggled as Christie did; what she says of her 
heroine applies to herself : 

" Twenty-one to-morrow, and her inheritance a 
head, a heart, a pair of hands ; also the dower of 
most New England girls — intelligence, courage, and 
common sense, many practical gifts and hidden 
under the reserve which soon melts in a genial 
atmosphere, much romance and enthusiasm, and 
the spirit which can rise to heroism when the great 
moment comes." 

This New England girl began at the bottom, and 



258 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

in her experience as a servant, Miss Alcott has 
faithfully recorded her own unpleasant trial, even to 
the poHshing of her master's boots; it was at this 
point that Louisa rebelled, but poor Christie was 
differently situated ; she had no " Marmee " to turn 
to as a refuge, so she had to bring forth all her phi- 
losophy and learn to polish boots properly. 

As an actress, Christie touches closely on Louisa's 
life; all the trials, temptations, wild ambitions, and 
rude awakening are true to life. Even her favorite 
Dickens was patronized by Christie. 

As governess, companion, seamstress, surely Miss 
Alcott's own experience told the tale of Christie's, 
even in her despairing moments, which were so 
closely related to the time when Louisa's resolute 
heart failed her, when manuscripts " came home to 
roost," or the tired fingers and back ached with the 
dreary, endless stitching. 

In speaking of " Work " Miss Alcott said to a 
friend : " Christie's adventures are many of them 
my own; Mr. Power is Mr. Parker, Mrs. Wilkins 
is imaginary, and all the rest." This may be true, 
and yet in the character of David Sterling there is 
a strong suggestion of her old friend Thoreau. His 
love of all growing things and outdoor life, his 
name, his gentle ways, his sturdy patriotism, and 
above all his playing of the flute. Louisa put her 
poem " Thoreau's Flute," in beautiful prose, in the 
chapter called " Little Heartsease." 

As might have been expected, " Work " sold well, 



PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 259 

and though criticised more than any of her stories, 
she felt that her labor had not been in vain. 

In April, she went home to take May's place, and 
sent her back to London, happy and independent, 
with a gift of a thousand dollars for another year 
of study. She had spent seven months in Boston, 
had written " a book and ten tales, earned three 
thousand two hundred and fifty dollars by my pen, 
and am satisfied with my winter's work." 

Feeling unable to do active home work, which 
had always been such a rest to her tired brain, and 
unwilling to put up with the trifling of servants, 
Miss Alcott decided to get a nice American woman, 
who could cook and help her with the housework, 
and the treasure she secured made the family 
rejoice. 

" Peace fell upon our troubled souls, and all went 
well. Good meals, tidy house, cheerful service, and 
in the p.m. an intelligent young person to read and 
sew with us. It was curious how she came to us; 
she had taught and sewed, and was tired, and 
wanted something else ; decided to try for a house- 
keeper's place, but happened to read *' Work," and 
thought she'd do as Christie did — take anything 
that came. I was the first who answered her ad- 
vertisement, and when she found I wrote the book, 
she said : * I'll go and see if Miss Alcott practices as 
she preaches.' " 

Feeling care-free in such capable hands, Louisa 
and little Johnny went to the seaside for a week, 



26o LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

but were summoned home by the alarming illness 
of Mrs. Alcott. For three weeks she hovered at 
death's door, unconscious most of the time, and 
those who loved her best feared she would slip 
away, but she came slowly back to life, the shadow 
of a great change upon her. 

Louisa saw this at once; the brave, energetic 
" Marmee " was gone forever, and in her place, a 
feeble old woman who knew that she must now 
tread the downward path. They all knew it, too, 
father and daughters, and they strove to keep the 
skies sunny, and the way easy for the tired feet. It 
was all they could do for one whose life service had 
been for them. 

When Louisa faced sorrow, it was always with 
bravery. Death did not mean the end of things to 
her; love lived always, and the family tie was too 
strong to be broken. However, " Marmee " was 
not to leave them yet, and they rejoiced over her 
improvement. During the late summer and early 
fall she was able to take quiet drives with Louisa, 
and her birthday, the 8th of October, was celebrated 
merrily. Miss Alcott made a little story about it 
which she called " A Happy Birthday," and invested 
the fifty dollars it brought in drives for the invalid. 

She determined to move the family to Boston 
for the winter, as Concord was always cold and 
bleak. She found sunny, cheerful rooms, and a 
nice school for the boys, while the three tired 
women " rested up " after the hard spring and sum- 



PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 261 

men This being a sort of hospital trip for " Mar- 
mee " and Anna, to say nothing of herself, Louisa 
did little or no work. " Pot-boilers," of course, she 
did not count ; once given an idea it was easy enough 
to rush into a story, and from November to April 
she earned a thousand dollars in that easy fashion. 
But her mother had another severe illness, and 
Louisa had a heartache. Her sympathy turned 
toward her father. In some way his philosophy, 
his sweet patience, had never brought him his re- 
ward, and to Louisa it seemed rather hard that she 
should have the fame, and he the crumbs. She be- 
gan to think the world a little out of gear. She 
writes : 

" When I had the youth, I had no money; now 
I have the money I have no time; and when I get 
the time, if I ever do, I shall have no health to 
enjoy life. I suppose it's the discipline I need; but 
it's rather hard to love the things I do, and see 
them go by because duty chains me to my galley. 
If I ever come into port with all sail set, that will 
be reward, perhaps. Life always was a puzzle to 
f me, and gets more mysterious as I go on. I shall 
find it out by and by, and see that it's all right, 
if I can only keep brave and patient to the 
end." 

It was not often of late years that Louisa spoke 
so freely in her journal about her own thoughts and 
feelings. As a child and a growing girl, she had 
found the pages of her diary helpful reminders of 



262 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

duty. The solemn, questioning little girl was feel- 
ing her course and liked to trace it with her pen, 
but the real cares of life had left her little time for 
self-examination. Instead, as we can see, she read 
her Emerson, and profited by his teaching. This 
dear friend was her idol still, and the self-reliant, 
heroic young woman, so nobly carrying the family 
burdens, no doubt inspired the philosopher, for he 
admired her greatly. Perhaps it was of her he 
thought when he wrote in his essay on " Hero- 
ism," which every American girl should read: 

" Let the maiden with erect soul walk serenely on 
her way, accept the hint of each new experience, 
search in turn all the objects that solicit her eye, that 
she may learn the power and charm of her new-born 
being, which is the kindling of a new dawn in the 
recesses of space. . . . Oh, friend, never strike sail 
to a fear! Come into port greatly, or sail with 
God the seas. Not in vain you live, for every pass- 
ing eye is cheered and refined by the vision." 

This was Louisa, heart and soul, as those who 
loved her knew. 

The return of May in the spring, laden with rich 
spoils from her year's study, enlivened the house- 
hold as usual. She brought with her lovely sketches 
and copies of Turner, and her sister gloried in her 
success. • They stayed in Boston long enough to 
erect a tablet to their Grandmother May, which they 
took their mother to see. 

" A pathetic sight," writes the daughter, " to see 



PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 263 

father walk up the aisle with the feeble old wife on 
his arm, as they went to be married nearly fifty 
years ago. . . . Several old ladies came in and 
knew Mother. She broke down, thinking of the 
time when she and her mother and sisters, and father 
and brothers all went to church together, and we 
took her home, saying : ' This isn't my Boston ; all 
my friends are gone. I never want to see it any 
more.' And she never did." 

Poor old lady! The last of a large family, sit- 
ting there, thinking of the past! Is it a wonder 
that she broke down? 

After they were settled again at Concord Louisa 
ran away to Boston by herself, and started work in 
earnest. The Elgin Watch Company oflfered her 
a gold watch or a hundred dollars for a story. She 
chose the money, and wrote " My Rococo Watch," 
which was published later in the " Spinning Wheel 
Series." She had now become such a sought-after 
person that the publishers began to quarrel over her 
unwritten stories. 

" I rather enjoyed it," she writes, " and felt im- 
portant with Roberts, Low, and Scribner all clamor- 
ing for my * 'umble ' work. No peddling poor little 
manuscripts now and feeling rich with ten dollars! 
The golden goose can sell her eggs for a good price, 
if she isn't killed by too much driving." 

The " unwritten story " she speaks about was 
evidently " Eight Cousins," which she finished in 
December, and which was published in serial form 
18 



264 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

in St. Nicholas. On the first page is this in- 
scription : 

To 

The many boys and girls, whose letters it has been impossi- 
ble to answer, this book is dedicated as a peace offering, 

by their friend 

L. M. Alcott. 

Miss Alcott has never written a more charming, 
wholesome tale. She gives us a glimpse of Boston 
and the harbor, she throws a bit of the sea in, with 
a strong Scotch flavor and true American accent, 
and we like the mixture. There are boys, boys, 
boys everywhere; she glories in them, she revels in 
them, and Uncle Alec is the biggest boy of them all. 

In a certain sense none of the characters has 
any real foundation. The golden-haired, blue-eyed 
heroine. Rose, bears a strong likeness to May, and 
Uncle Alec has a great deal of Louisa herself 
tucked away in his old bachelor's heart. Beyond 
a doubt, the aunts were all funny portraits of people 
she knew, and the boys, jolly, hearty fellows, were 
like all other boys the world over. 

Louisa turned herself loose in this happy meadow 
of youth, picking the prettiest flowers she could find 
for her boys and girls. We love Rose, with her 
grace, her kindness, her generosity; and the strong, 
capable Phoebe, with her dark hair and black eyes 
and her beautiful voice; and the kind old aunts, 
with the simple old-fashioned ways, and all the 



PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 265 

rest of them; and we are glad that Miss Alcott, in 
her preface, has promised us a sequel — that we are 
not to say good-by to the Campbell Clan just yet, 
that there is to be a " Rose in Bloom " some day 
not far ofif. " Eight Cousins " found its niche at 
once; the boys and girls to whom it was dedicated 
felt pacified in spite of the unanswered letters. 

I fancy Louisa enjoyed the education of this 
motherless and fatherless little Rose; she put a good 
many of her own ideas in Uncle Alec's wise head. 
It was his opinion that if Rose had a good grip of 
the " three R's " she would do pretty well. " Let 
us be thorough," he said, " no matter how slowly 
we go." He objected to the fashionable school- 
teacher, who " crammed her pupils like Thanksgiv- 
ing turkeys, instead of feeding them in a natural 
and wholesome way." 

" As figures are rather important things to most 
of us," he suggested, when Rose showed him a 
dilapidated account book, " wouldn't it be wise to 
begin at once and learn to manage your pennies 
before the pounds come to perplex you ?" 

That Rose liked her simple, everyday lessons we 
take for granted, when she answers with a mixture 
of fun and earnestness : 

" You shall teach me, and when I am a woman 
we will set up a school where nothing but the three 
R's shall be taught, and all the children live on oat- 
meal, and the girls have waists a yard round." 

He believed in fun, too, and plenty of it, and not 



266 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

one of the boys was keener for a frolic than Dr. 
Alec, always planning pleasant surprises when Rose 
most longed for it. He would smile and say: 
" Half the children's pleasure consists in having 
their fun when they want it." And surely never in 
one book was crowded so much innocent happiness 
and fun, so many helpful lessons of love and sacri- 
fice, for Miss Alcott wished to show that boys and 
girls, no matter what their station, nor how wealthy 
they may be, have still their part to play in the 
work-a-day world, which they can make the brighter 
and better, through " little deeds of kindness." 
After finishing " Eight Cousins " she arranged for 
the writing of " Silver Pitchers," which was to be 
not only a Centennial story, but a temperance tale. 
There is not much in it, but it paid well and went 
well ; Louisa herself did not care for it. " Poor 
stuff," she says, " but the mill must keep on grind- 
ing — even chaff." 

It was not often she disliked her literary children. 
Generally she loved them, though she recognized 
their faults, but the " written-to-order " kind of 
story she never cared for. There was included in 
this volume, which has recently been republished in 
the " Spinning Wheel Series," under the title of 
" Silver Pitchers," eight other tales more or less 
interesting. " My Rococo Watch," " Letty's 
Tramp," and " Transcendental Wild Oats " are 
the best among them. The last-mentioned story 
being true from start to finish, indeed, a graphic 



PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 267 

account of the Fruitlands experiment, told in 
Louisa's most humorous vein, with a dash of real 
sentiment here and there, hke a streak of gold. 

Feeling that she had earned, if not a vacation, at 
least a recess, she ran up to Vassar, where she talked 
to four hundred girls, wrote in stacks of albums and 
school books, and kissed everyone who asked her. 
From Vassar she went to New York, where she 
stayed but a short while, but she adds in her jour- 
nal : " Things look rather jolly, and I may try a 
winter there sometime, as I need a change and new 
ideas." 

By March, she was home again getting ready for 
the Centennial celebration of the Concord Fight, 
when Paul Revere took his famous ride, and the 
" British regulars fired and fled." As usual, she 
forgot herself in the enthusiasm and excitement, the 
result being " general breakdown, owing to an un- 
wise desire to outdo all the other towns ; too many 
people." 

June, July, and August she generally served up 
together in her journal, and that season of 1875 she 
writes : " Keep house at home, with two Irish in- 
capables to trot after, and ninety-two guests in one 
month to entertain. Fame is an expensive luxury ; 
I can do without it. This is my worst scrape, I 
think. I asked for bread and got a stone — in the 
shape of a pedestal." 

But in a certain way she liked her popularity, if 
it did not walk unbidden into her home circle. She 



268 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

gives a humorous description of a Woman's Con- 
gress she attended at Syracuse in September, 1875 : 

" Funny time with the girls. Write loads of 
autographs, dodge at the theater, and am kissed to 
death by gushing damsels. One energetic lady 
grasped my hand in the crowd, exclaiming : ' If you 
ever come to Oshkosh, your feet will not be allowed 
to touch the ground; you will be borne in the arms 
of the people ! Will you come ? ' * Never,' re- 
sponded Miss Alcott, trying to look affable and 
dying to laugh, as the good soul worked my arm 
like a pump-handle, and from the gallery, genera- 
tions of girls were looking on. This — ^this is 
fame!" 

Before going home, she visited Niagara and 
again stopped in New York, where she had a most 
delightful visit. The great city with its hurry and 
bustle gave her the change she longed for, the brain 
tonic that she needed. No two days of her stay were 
alike, she was welcomed in literary and social circles. 
She caught glimpses of the very rich in their homes, 
of the very poor who had no homes at all. She went 
to receptions, lectures, concerts, operas, theaters. 
She visited the Tombs, Newsboys' Home, and on 
Christmas Day went to Randall's Island with her 
sweet old Quaker friend, Mrs. Abby Gibbons. 
These last expeditions she enjoyed more than all the 
parties or dinners. But even though a giddy per- 
son, she is also " a thrifty butterfly " as she writes 
her father, " having written three stories, which in- 



PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 269 

eluded a ' girl paper ' for St. Nick, while several 
other papers were waiting for tales." 

" So far," she adds, " I like New York very 
much, and feel so w^ell I shall stay on till I'm tired 
of it. People begin to tell me how much better I 
look than when I came, and I have not an ache to 
fret over. This, after such a long lesson in bodily 
ails, is a blessing for which I am duly grateful." 

The next letter to her little nephews describes her 
visit to the Newsboys' Home, which she enjoyed 
immensely. One hundred and eighty boys swarm- 
ing about her was a delight in itself and a welcome 
experience. She speaks specially of " one little 
chap, only six, who trotted around, busy as a bee, 
putting his small shoes and ragged jacket in one 
of the lockers. I asked about little Pete and the 
man told us his brother, only nine, supported him 
and took care of him entirely and wouldn't let 
Pete be sent away to any home, because he wished 
to have his ' family ' with him. 

" Think of that, Fred ! How would it seem to 
be all alone in a big city, with no mamma to cuddle 
you ; no two grandpas' houses to take you in ; not 
a penny but what you earned, and Donny to take 
care of? Could you do it? Nine-year-old Patsey 
does it capitally; buys Pete's clothes, pays for his 
bed and supper, and puts pennies in the savings 
bank. There's a brave little man for you ! 

". . . The savings bank was a great table full 
of slits, each one leading to a little place below and 



270 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

numbered outside, so each boy knew his own. Once 
a month the bank is opened, and the lads take out 
what they like or have it invested in a big bank for 
them to have when they find homes out West, as 
many do, and make good farmers, A boy was put- 
ting in some pennies as we looked, and I asked 
how much he had saved this month. * Fourteen 
dollars, ma'am,' said the thirteen-year-older, proudly 
slipping in the last cent. A prize of three dollars is 
ofifered to the lad who saves the most in a month." 

She closes her letter to the boys with the follow- 
ing bright and humorous description of the going- 
to-bed arrangements. " At nine, the word ' Bed! ' 
was given, and," she winds up, " away went 
the lads, trooping up to sleep in shirts and trousers 
as nightgowns are not provided. How would a 
boy I know like that? — a boy who likes to have 
* trommin ' on his nighties. Of course, I don't 
mean Dandy Don ! Oh, dear, no ! " 

Her visit to Randall's Island, Christmas Day, was 
full of interest, though her heart ached for the little 
" forlornities " she saw there. There is no doubt 
that her generous hands opened wide with the joy 
of giving, but she has no word of that, only praise 
and admiration for the sweet Quaker couple, who 
were beloved through the length and breadth of the 
island. 

She writes in a letter to her family : " One of 
the teachers in the idiot home was a Miss C, who 
remembered Nan at Dr. Wilbur's. Very ladylike 



PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY. 271 

and all devotion to me. But such a life! Oh, me! 
Who can lead it and not go mad? 

" At four we left and came home, Mrs. Gibbons 
giving a box of toys and sweeties on board the boat, 
for the childlren of the men who own it. So leav- 
ing a stream of blessings and pleasures behind her, 
the dear old lady drove away, simply saying: 
* There, now ; I shall feel better for the next year.' 
Well she may, bless her! 

" She made a speech to the chapel children, . . . 
and told them that she should come as long as she 
could, and when she was gone her children would 
still keep it up in memory of her ; so for thirty years 
more she hoped this, their one holiday, would be 
made happy for them. I could have hugged her 
on the spot, the motherly old dear! 

"... I got home at five, and then remembered 
I'd had no lunch; so I took an apple till six, when 
I discovered that all had dined at one, so the helpers 
could go early this evening. Thus my Christmas 
Day was without dinner or presents, for the first 
time since I can remember. Yet it has been a very 
memorable day, and I feel as if I'd had a splendid 
feed, seeing the poor babies wallow in turkey and 
soup, and that every gift I put into their hands had 
come back to me in the dumb delight of their 
unchildlike faces trying to smile." 

Altogether, Louisa's visit to New York was a 
great success. At forty-three, she was not too old 
to enjoy the pageant of the great city, and this she 



272 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

did most thoroughly, while, as we see, she looked 
deep down into the heart of the sober side, doing 
what she could to help along, and she went back to 
Boston feeling all the better, physically and men- 
tally, for her contact with this outside world. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 




URING the summer of 1876, which was 
spent in Concord nursing- her mother, 
now constantly ill, Louisa had a busy 
time. Here are some items from her 
journal, to show how hands and heart and brain 
were all in motion : 

" June — Lovely month ! Keep hotel and wait on 
Marmee. 

" Try to get up steam for a new serial, as Mrs. 
Dodge wants one, and Scribner offers three thou- 
sand dollars for it. Roberts Brothers want a novel ; 
and the various newspapers and magazines clamor 
for tales. My brain is squeezed dry, and I can 
only wait for help, 

" July and August — Get an idea and start * Rose 
in Bloom,' though I hate sequels." 

The Scribners at that time were the publishers of 
St. Nicholas. Mrs. Mary Mapes Dodge, the editor- 
in-chief, was an intimate friend of Miss Alcott's, so 
it was not remarkable that the children's great maga- 
zine should make every effort to secure contribu- 
tions from the children's great writer, for there was 

273 



274 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

now no doubt that, in her own line, Louisa had no 
equal. Though she never bound herself to any- 
special publication, she is to be found very often in 
the pages of St. Nicholas, and " Rose in Bloom " 
had long been promised to the enthusiastic young 
readers. 

This mighty task of twenty-two chapters was 
accomplished in three weeks, and proved to be one 
of the sweetest and brightest of her stories. Rose, 
as a grown-up heroine, is charming ; the sort of girl 
we all love, the sort of woman men admire and 
reverence ; and dark, splendid Phoebe, with the glori- 
ous voice, is a beautiful contrast; two royal girls 
full of life and youth, and hope, and noble purpose. 
But she has not neglected her boys, they have turned 
out fine clansmen, and even though Charlie's weak- 
ness got the upper hand, he was a handsome, lovable 
fellow, and many a secret sigh has been breathed at 
his shrine by romantic damsels, who admire the 
" bold and dashing " hero. In the studious Mac 
and quiet, steadfast Archie, she has fashioned two 
men worthy of her pen, while the other characters 
she has mellowed and broadened with the passing 
years. 

It is so delightful to meet our old friends in this 
happy fashion, and when Rose comes home from 
Europe to take possession of her property, we feel 
that the " coming out " party is not the beginning 
and end of things for a rich and pretty girl. 

The glimpses she had recently had of the enor- 



MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 275 

mous charities of a great city had given Louisa a 
weapon to put into the hands of her young heiress, 
whose good works take the shape of a home for 
gentlewomen, a hospital for sick babies, and best of 
all, the " Rose Garden " where the little creatures 
could toddle about in the fresh air. Rose even 
adopts a little waif herself, a sad and solemn child 
with big wistful eyes, which had seen too much of 
the world's sorrow. 

Miss Alcott is more romantic than usual in her 
love scenes, but she is specially happy when she 
comes close to Nature, in the chapter " Among the 
Hay-Cocks." It is full of the poetry of Keats, the 
ramblings of Thoreau, and the philosophy of Emer- 
son, a fitting background to the budding love of a 
strong man and a fair girl. From that time began 
the unfolding of the petals from about the golden 
heart of the Rose^ and Miss Alcott almost turns poet 
as she lingers over the sweet love story. 

" Rose in Bloom " was published in November of 
the Centennial year, and went well from the first, 
taking its place among the most popular of her 
books. Before it was finished, May sailed again 
for another year of study abroad, a journey from 
which she never returned. 

" God be with her ! " writes Louisa, from a heart 
full of forelx)ding, " She has done her distasteful 
duty faithfully, and deserves a reward. She cannot 
find the help she needs here, and is happy and busy 
in her own world over there." 



276 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

This time their " little Raphael " made many 
strides. " I am getting on," she wrote her home 
people, " and I feel as if it was not all a mistake, 
for I have some talent and will prove it," and her 
sister adds: " Modesty is a sign of genius, and I 
think our girl has both. The money I invest in her 
pays the sort of interest I like. I am proud to have 
her show what she can do, and have her depend on 
no one but me." 

The winter of 1877 opened well. Anna kept 
house, and the boys, tall, fine lads, filled it with sun- 
shine. Mr. Alcott was writing a book, " Marmee " 
was cozy with her sewing, her letters, and her 
" girls," so Louisa felt free to slip away to Boston 
for some weeks. Here, at the request of Roberts 
Brothers, she wrote a novel called " A Modern 
Mephistopheles " for their famous No Name Scries. 

" It has been simmering ever since I read * Faust ' 
last year," she tells us. " Enjoyed doing it, being 
tired of providing moral pap for the young. Long 
to write a novel but cannot get time enough." 

This was the result of one of her fits of rebellion. 
Louisa turned loose, pranced like a colt, having 
shaken ofif the halter ; and she gave rein to that vivid, 
morbid fancy of hers, which in the early days had 
sold so many sensational " pot-boilers." Safely 
hidden, as to her identity, she enjoyed the mystery 
of her " Modern Mephistopheles," but it is fairly 
certain that she would never have allowed this 
queer child of hers to bear her name. The story 



MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 277 

is as weird as Goethe's " Faust " without its great- 
ness; there is neither hope, nor Hght, nor joy in it. 
There is, of course, a moral, but the afflictions and 
catastrophes crowd so thick that the thread of gold 
is lost in the maze of evil. For the first time she 
fails to present life as she found it. She draws on 
her imagination and from what she has read. 

Mrs. Cheney, in speaking of this work in the 
" Life and Letters," says : *' We do not find Louisa 
Alcott's own broad, generous, healthy life, or that 
w^hich lay around her in this book, but the remi- 
niscences of her reading, which she had striven to 
make her own by invention and fancy." In itself 
a fine bit of work, it adds nothing to Miss Alcott's 
fame as a writer, but it excited much comment and 
a great deal of guessing, which the author enjoyed 
most heartily. 

The following letter to her publisher, Mr. Niles, 
shows the family feeling regarding the book : 

" Dear Mr. Niles : 

" I had to keep the proof longer than I meant, 
because a funeral came in the way. 

" The book as last sent is lovely, and much bigger 
than I expected. 

" Poor * Marmee,' ill in bed, hugged it and said: 
* It is perfect, only I do wish your name could be 
on it.* She is very proud of it ; and tender-hearted 
Anna weeps and broods over it, calling Gladys the 
best and sweetest character I ever did. So much 



278 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

for home opinion, now let's see what the public will 
say. May clamors for it, but I don't want to send 
this till she has had one or two of the others. [She 
refers here to the novels which came out in the 
No Name Series. ] Have you sent her * Is That 
All ? ' If not, please do ; then it won't look sus- 
picious to send only * M. M.' [Modern Mephis- 
topheles]. 

" I am so glad the job is done, and hope it won't 
disgrace the Series. Is not another to come before 
this? I hope so, for many people suspect what is 
up. . . . 

" Thanks for the trouble you have taken to keep 
the secret. Now the fun will begin. 

" Yours truly, 

" L. M. A." 

It is plainly to be seen that while May might have 
known that her sister was writing a novel for the 
Series, she was not told the title of the story, and 
had therefore to pick it from among the many 
Roberts Brothers sent her as puzzles. 

At last Louisa was able to carry out a cherished 
plan; she helped Anna buy the Thoreau place for 
herself and the boys, who were growng up fast and 
needed a home of their own, and the two sisters 
had happy times together beautifying the old- 
fashioned yellow house, where Thoreau had spent 
his last days, and which was full of the sweetest 
memories to them both. 



MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 279 

" Helped to buy the house for Nan," writes 
Louisa, " so she has her wish and is happy. When 
shall I have mine? Ought to be contented with 
knowing I help both sisters by my brains. But 
I'm selfish, and want to go away and rest in Europe. 
Never shall." 

She put away her private woes, however, to re- 
joice in May's triumph. She had been through a 
hard winter of study in Paris, and at the request of 
her teacher, sent a bit of still life to the Salon. It 
was accepted, hung and much praised by the judges. 
May was jubilant, her family scarcely less so, and 
the star of fame glimmered afar for the young artist, 
whose hard work and talent were beginning to be 
recognized. 

May and June were passed happily and peace- 
fully at Concord with the dear invalid, who grew 
more feeble each day, though she was still able to 
drive gently in a low basket phaeton through the 
beautiful woods she loved so well. Louisa forgot 
her own ailments in the sweet companionship of 
those summer days. Indeed, she began to hope 
that her old enemy, neuralgia, had completely dis- 
appeared. Then it is to be feared that her energy 
got the better of her prudence, for in July she 
records : 

" Got too tired and was laid up for some weeks. 
A curious time, lying quite happily at rest, won- 
dering what was to come next." 

In August, she felt better and began " Under the 
19 



28o LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Lilacs," which was to make its bow in the fall, as 
a serial in St. Nicholas. 

In September, " Marmee " was much worse, and 
the two daughters, who watched her so anxiously, 
saw that the end was very near. No one knew what 
the parting meant to Louisa. Anna had her boys; 
May her pictures; but her whole life had been one 
earnest endeavor to make her mother's pathway 
easy, and to see her slipping away in the midst of 
prosperity, when luxuries could be had for the ask- 
ing, was hard indeed. 

All through their trials and their hardships 
" Marmee's " had been the steadying hand upon the 
wheel. Her strength was not the calm of a serene 
philosopher like her husband, but the practical 
energy of an everyday, wide-awake woman, ready 
to help those she loved best out of every dilemma, 
never faltering when the way was rough and stony, 
as it was too often. In such cases she never waited 
for the stones to roll away; she moved them her- 
self, a strong, bright example for her little girls, 
who, one and all, inherited that courageous spirit. 
Louisa, in particular, showed this influence from the 
day of small tasks till the great ones were finished. 

The girls could never remember when " Mar- 
mee " was not brimming over with fun and a quaint 
humor. There were innumerable household sayings 
which came direct from her, and which have since 
grown into family proverbs ; there were funny anec- 
dotes, to which only she could do justice. She 



MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 281 

was the soul of hospitality; the fountain-head of 
every frolic. She had a quick temper under per- 
fect control, which is better by far than a naturally 
even disposition which requires no effort at all to 
subdue, and she taught her girls this golden secret. 
In " Little Women " Louisa certainly paid royal 
tribute to her mother, for Marmee stands out in 
the story a portrait of wonderful light and color. 
Indeed, every mother Miss Alcott created — and she 
was fond of writing about mothers — had " Mar- 
mee " for a model. 

Had not Mrs. Alcott been such a busy woman 
she would probably have written, for she had a 
vivid imagination, keen humor, a poetic streak, and 
her journals, had they been preserved, would have 
given to the world interesting records of the family 
life. Her letters to her children were always 
simple and sincere, full of an earnest endeavor to 
lead them in the right way, and the little motherly 
notes tucked under her pillow did much for Louisa 
in forming the character of a restless, turbulent and 
often wayward little girl. So it was hard for those 
who loved her to stand by while the great soul 
struggled for release from the frail body. 

Yet while Louisa watched and waited her brain 
was lively, and her pen flew. She wrote " My 
Girls " to go with other tales in a new " Scrap-Bag," 
and finished " Under the Lilacs," one of the bright- 
est, liveliest, and youngest of her children. She 
says : " It always takes an exigency to spur me 



282 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

up and wring out a book. Never have time to 
go slowly and do my best." The nursing and anx- 
iety were such a strain, that fearing she might 
break down at the last, Louisa got a nurse and 
rested a little. 

She writes of her mother in October : " We 
thought she would not outlive her seventy-seventh 
birthday, but thanks to Dr. W. she got relief, 
and we had a sad little celebration, well knowing 
it would be the last. Aunt B. and L. W. came up 
with fruit and flowers, smiling faces and full hearts, 
and we sat around the brave soul, who faced death 
so calmly, and was ready to go. 

" I overdid, and was very ill, in danger of my 
life for a week, and feared to go before * Marmee.' 
But pulled through, and got up slowly to help her 
die. A strange month ! " 

In November, she was very feeble, and her 
mother failing fast. On the 14th, the two invalids 
were removed to Anna's new home, and, on the 25th, 
" Marmee " died quietly in Louisa's arms. Her 
daughter writes touchingly of the peaceful hour, 
while the rain fell gently in the Sabbath stillness 
and they sat watching the ebbing life. 

" She was very happy all day, thinking herself a 
girl again with parents and sisters around her. Said 
her Sunday hymn to me, whom she called ' Mother,' 
and smiled at us, saying : ' A smile is as good as a 
prayer.' Looked often at the little picture of May, 
and waved her hand to it. * Good-by, little May, 



MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 283 

good-by! ' Her last words to Father were: ' You 
are laying a very soft pillow for me to go to sleep 
on.' " 

She was buried in Sleepy Hollow, close beside 
Beth, and for a while the two daughters could only 
sit quietly by, " resting in her rest." The calm of 
a great despair seemed to fall upon Louisa. 

" My duty is done," she writes, " now I shall be 
glad to follow. ... I never wish her back, but a 
great warmth seems gone out of life, and there is 
no motive to go on now*. My only comfort is that 
I could make her last years comfortable, and lift 
off the burden she had carried so bravely all these 
years. She was so loyal, tender, and true ; life was 
hard for her, and no one understood all she had to 
bear, but w-e, her children." 

This somber tone was not like Louisa. She was 
ill, she was passing tlirough a deep grief, and she 
was weary in body and soul. But a month's reflec- 
tion made her see things in a clearer light. 

'* Father goes about, being restless wittj his 
anchor gone. Dear Nan is house-mother now, so 
patient, thoughtful, and tender; I need nothing but 
that cherishing which only mothers can give." 

In the beautiful poem, called " Transfiguration," 
which she wrote in memory of her mother, Louisa 
showed to what heights her genius could soar when 
moved by a strong emotion. The last two verses 
show besides, the love and admiration her mother's 
character called forth : 



284 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Oh, noble woman! never more a queen, 

Than in the laying down 

Of scepter and of crown. 
To win a greater kingdom, yet unseen; 

Teaching us how to seek the highest goal, 

To earn the true success, — 

To live, to love, to bless, — 
And make death proud to take a royal soul. 

Both Louisa and her father had this singular 
trait; when deeply moved by a great emotion or a 
great grief, they found that poetry came freely to 
their pens — not mere verse or rhyme, but truly 
inspired thought. " Thoreau's Flute " and those 
beautiful lines just quoted would of themselves 
stamp Louisa as a poet, had she written nothing 
else. But the practical needs of life made her 
turn resolutely from the " Poet's Corner " where 

" Many a flow'r is born to blush unseen. 
And waste its sweetness on the desert air," 

and where much praise and little money would have 
been her portion. 

Her writing, as usual, proved her truest consola- 
tion. " Under the Lilacs," which had been finished 
at her mother's bedside, was hailed by the younger 
readers with delight. A boy, two girls, and a dog 
are enough to make any tale interesting, and 
Sanch\ being such a wonderfully accomplished 



MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 285 

dog, was considered by many to be the hero of the 
story. This was the first time Louisa had ever in- 
dulged her love of animals in public, and she took a 
gieat deal of trouble in building her dog on regu- 
lar circus lines, going to various shows where per- 
forming dogs were the attraction, in order that 
Sancho's tricks should be true to life. 

Accepting Sancli ,i\'\tn, as the hero, Louisa, while 
she certainly put many lifelike touches to her other 
little characters, did not take them wholly from 
life; there are many Babs and Bettys in the world; 
many good, honest, independent Bens. The only 
" really " real person was the little six-year-old son 
of F. B. Sanborn who, under the name of Alfred 
Tennyson Barlozv, recited verses of his own compo- 
sition in the chapter called "A Happy Tea." Here 
they are : 

"Sweet are the flowers of life, 
Swept o'er my happy days at home; 
Sweet are the flowers of life. 
When I was a little child. 

"Sweet are the flowers of life, 
That I spent with my father at home; 
Sweet are the flowers of life, 
When children played about the house. 

"Sweet are the flowers of life, 
When the lamps are lighted at night; 
Sweet are the flowers of life, 
When the flowers of summer bloomed. 



286 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT 

" Sweet are the flowers of life, 
Dead are the snows of winter; 
Sweet are the flowers of life, 
When the days of spring come on." 

This was truly the production of Mr. Sanborn's 
little son at the age of six, and here is another frag- 
ment he composed, when " digging after turtles." 

" Sweet, sweet days are passing 
O'er my happy home. 

Passing on swift wings through the valley of life. 
Cold are the days when winter comes again. 
When my sweet days were passing at my happy home. 
Sweet were the days on the rivulet's green brink, 
Sweet were the days when I read my father's books; 
Sweet were the winter days when bright fires were blazing." 

The quaintness of the child, the queer chanting 
ring of the lines, caught Louisa's fancy, so she 
popped them into her story. 

Her chief care being now her father, she deter- 
mined that, though late in life, recognition should 
come to him at last, and it was chiefly through her 
planning and assistance that the long-dreamed-of 
School of Philosophy began to take shape. Mr. 
Alcott was to be the head of it all, and the school, 
a simple structure, was reared a few years later on 
the grounds of Orchard House. Here, each year, 
for several summer weeks, the philosophers would 
flock, to talk and speculate. Mrs. Cheney says of 



MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 287 

the school: " The opening was a great event to Mr. 
Alcott. . . . Louisa enjoyed his gratification and 
took pains to help him reap full satisfaction from 
it. She carried flowers to grace the opening meet- 
ing, and was friendly to his guests. . . . She had 
not much faith in the experiment. Philosophy was 
associated in her mind with early poverty and suf- 
fering, and she did not feel its charms." 

Another interest held her at this time, as bits from 
her journal will show: " May busy in London," she 
writes, the January after her mother's death. 
" Very sad about Marmee; but it was best not to 
send for her, and Marmee forbade it, and she has 
some very tender friends near her." 

The sweet breath of this budding romance woke 
Louisa from her first dull grief, for May illustrated 
accurately the history of Amy's courtship and mar- 
riage in " Little Women." It was a pretty love 
story ; the lonely, homesick girl, the handsome lover, 
and Louisa could not help rejoicing in her happi- 
ness. She had long suspected the truth, for May 
had dropped many happy hints in her letters. Mr. 
Ernest Nieriker was a young Swiss whom May 
met in London, and between the two the romance 
began at once. He was very musical, and in the 
first sad days of May's sorrow his violin soothed 
her grief, and his quick sympathy touched her heart. 
In a short time they became engaged, just as in the 
case of Amy and Laurie, and the letters home were 
full of this new-found happiness. The marriage 



288 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

was very sudden ; business called Mr. Nieriker away 
from London, and they decided that a hurried wed- 
ding was better than a long separation. The sim- 
ple ceremony took place March 226., 1878, and Lou- 
isa writes : 

" A happy event — May's marriage to Ernest 
Nieriker, the * tender friend ' who has consoled her 
for Marmee's loss, as John consoled Nan for Beth's. 
He is a Swiss, handsome, cultivated, and good; an 
excellent family, living in Baden, and E. has a good 
business. May is old enough to choose for herself, 
and seems so happy in the new relation that we have 
nothing to say against it. . . . Sent her a thousand 
dollars as a gift, and all good wishes for the new 
hfe. 

" April — Happy letters from May, who is enjoy- 
ing life as one can but once. E. writes finely to 
father, and is a son to welcome, I am sure. May 
sketches, and E. attends to his business by day, and 
both revel in music in the evening, as E. is a fine 
violin player. 

" How different our lives are just now ! I so 
lonely, sad and sick; she so happy, well and blest. 
She always had the cream of things, and deserved it. 
My time is yet to come somewhere else, when I 
am ready for it. 

" Anna clears out the old house, for we shall 
never go back to it ; it ceased to be ' home ' when 
Marmee left it. 

" I dawdle about, and wait to see if I am to live 



MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 289 

or die. If I live, it is for some new work. I wonder 
what?" 

Poor Louisa! to write like that she must indeed 
have been " sad and lonely/' and we are reminded 
forcibly of poor Jo after Bcth's death. It is a cry 
from the heart, and for the first time in all her busy, 
useful life, we find ourselves wondering if she would 
not have been happier with a home, a husband, and 
little children of her own. 

But the spring drove the cobwebs away, out-of- 
doors with Nature worked the cure, and real hap- 
piness in May's happiness revived her spirits. She 
longed to see May in her pretty home at Mendon, 
and planned to go there in the fall, but gave up the 
idea at the last moment, as her health was too un- 
certain. 

" Xan breaks her leg," she writes, " so it is well 
I stayed, as there was no one to take her place but 
me. Always a little chore to be done." 

By the New Year (1879), she was so improved 
that she was able to go to Boston for a short time, 
and while there got two books well started ; she was 
able also to mingle a little with the life about her, 
but in February she writes : 

" Home to Concord — rather used up. Find a 
very quiet life is best; for in Boston people beset me 
to do things [such as Jarley's Wax Works for a 
fair] and I try, and get so tired I cannot work. Dr. 
C. says rest is my salvation ; so I rest. Hope for 
Paris in the spring, as May begs me to come. She 



290 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

is leading what she calls ' an ideal life,' painting, 
music, love, and the world shut out. People wonder 
and gossip, but May and Ernest laugh and are 
happy. Wise people to enjoy this lovely time! " 

She writes of a dinner given by the Papyrus 
Club, at the Revere House, where she was one of 
the guests of honor. Dr. Holmes took her in; to 
her surprise she found herself the specially honored 
one, sitting at the right hand of the president. 

" Dr. Holmes was very gallant," she writes. 
" ' Little Women ' often toasted, with more praise 
than was good for me. 

" Saw Mrs. B. at a lunch, and took her and Mrs. 
Dodge to Concord for a lunch. Most agreeable 
women. 

" Pleasant times with my ' rainy-day friend,' as 
I call Dr. W. She is a great comfort to me, with 
her healthy common-sense, and tender patience, 
aside from skill as a doctor, and beauty as a woman. 
I love her much, and she does me good." 

But the poor nerves ached during April, May, 
and June. 

" Very poorly and cross ; so tired of being a pris- 
oner to pain. Long for the. old strength, when I 
could do what I liked, and never knew I had a 
body. Life not worth living this way; but having 
overworked the wonderful machine, I must pay for 
it, and should not growl, I suppose, as it is just." 

In August, she took a new " Scrap-Bag " book 
to Boston, a collection of tales headed by " Jimmie's 



MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 291 

Cruise on the Pinafore." In September, she came 
home from the seaside, much refreshed, and ready 
for work on a new serial for St. Nicholas, " Jack 
and Jill." 

" Have no plan yet," she writes, " but a boy, a 
girl, and a sled, with an upset to start with. Vague 
idea of working in Concord, young folks and their 
doings. After two years of rest I am going to try 
again; it is so easy to make money now, and so 
pleasant to have it to give. A chapter a day is my 
task, and not that, if I feel tired. No more four- 
teen hours a day; make haste slowly now. 

" May sent some nice little letters of an ' Artist's 
Holiday,' and I had them printed; also a book for 
artists abroad — very useful and well done." 

" October 8th — Dear Marmee's birthday. Never 
forgotten. Lovely day. Go to Sleepy Hollow with 
flowers. Her grave is green ; blackberry vines with 
red leaves trail over it. A little white stone with 
her initials is at the head, and among the tall grasses 
over her breast a little bird had made a nest ; empty 
now, but a pretty symbol of the refuge that tender 
bosom always was for all feeble and sweet things. 
Her favorite asters bloomed all about, and the pines 
sang overhead. So she and dear Beth are quietly 
asleep in God's Acre, and we remember them more 
tenderly each year that brings us nearer them and 
home." 

" Jack and Jill " created a stir in Concord when 
it became known Miss Alcott was drawing the 



292 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

youngsters of the town. All were interested, all 
wanted to " go in," and all wanted to be angels. 
A difficult task to place them, but she enjoyed it 
and did the best she could. 

She found that her stories were accomplishing 
another mission, that their simplicity and sweetness 
had power to touch hardened hearts, and glad al- 
ways to give, the best she had to those who needed 
it, she went to the Men's Prison in Concord with 
her father, where she was heartily welcomed and 
her stories found eager listeners, and later she drove 
to the Woman's Prison at Sherburne, where she 
read a story to four hundred women, who doubtless 
blessed this gracious sister as she went among them, 
listening to their own pitiful tales. 

Several years after, a young man came to see her. 
Pie was just out of the old Concord Prison, and he 
wanted to thank her for the little story she had told 
during her visit. It had put new heart into him, for 
his offense had been but slight — a theft committed 
while drunk — and after his three years' sentence 
he had come out eager to atone for this one fault. 
As usual, Miss Alcott helped him by word and deed, 
her heart warmed and touched by the man's earnest- 
ness. 

On the 8th of November, little Miss Louisa May 
Nieriker came smiling into the world, and made all 
hearts glad. There was great rejoicing in the 
Alcott household, while in the little nest across the 
water a strange hush brooded. Joy in the new- 



MORE LITERARY CHILDREN. 293 

comer was swallowed up in anxiety for her mother. 
May did not improve as rapidly as they had hoped, 
and, in December, Louisa writes : 

*' May not doing well. The weight on my heart 
was not all imagination. She was too happy to 
have it last, and I fear the end is coming. Hope 
it is my nerves; but this peculiar feeling has never 
misled me before." 

And surely it did not fail her now; the bright, 
joyous life went out with the old year on the 29th. 
The sad news reached home on the 31st. 

" A dark day for us," writes Louisa. " A tele- 
gram from Ernest to Mr. Emerson tells us * May 
is dead.* " 

Louisa was alone when their kind friend came to 
break the news. Anna had gone to Boston, Mr. 
Alcott was at the post-office anxiously awaiting let- 
ters which were overdue. But the philosopher had 
no words to ease the force of the blow. 

" My child, I wish I could prepare you," he 
faltered, and then Louisa knew, and something in 
her heart seemed to break, as it had never done 
before. 

" The dear baby may comfort Ernest," she writes, 
" but what can comfort us ? It is the distance that 
is so hard, and the thought of so much happiness 
ended so soon. * Two years of perfect happiness ' 
May called these married years. She wished me to 
have her baby and her pictures. ♦ A very precious 
legacy. Rich payment for the little I could do for 



294 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

her. I see now why I hved — to care for May's 
child, and not leave Anna all alone." 

In the darkness of her sorrow, this thought com- 
forted her. God had spared her still to be the staff 
of the few left behind. On January i, 1880, she 
writes : 

" A sad (iay — ^mourning for May. Of all the 
trials in my life, I never felt any so keenly as this ; 
perhaps because I am so feeble in health that I 
cannot bear it well. It seems so hard to break up 
that happy little home, and take May, just when life 
was richest, and leave me who had done my task, 
and could well be spared." 

Ah, Louisa, your task is not done! There's a 
baby coming from across the sea to brighten what 
is left of your life. There is a father to be cared 
for in his gentle, helpless old age, and a sister left 
on whom to lavish a rich measure of love. There 
are thousands of children yet to write for, and much 
to make life worth the living. 

She felt this like the truly pious woman she was. 
No matter how heavy her cross, she was strong 
enough to bear it. She had miles to trudge before 
reaching her goal, so she lifted her burden once 
more, with the same courage as in the old childish 
days, when the four little sisters toiled up the hill 
toward the Celestial City. 



CHAPTER XVII. 



NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 




ONCORD truly mourned the death of 
May Alcott. Her many attractions had 
made her a great favorite, and she 
was a leading spirit in the town. De- 
voted to her art, she tried to form an art center in 
Concord, placing her time and her studio at the dis- 
posal of anyone whose talent turned that way. She 
was specially kind to Daniel Chester French, the 
well-known sculptor of " The Minute Man," of 
whose budding genius she had great hopes, and it 
was she who gave him his first modeling clay. She 
would have been a great artist had she lived, for 
her pictures, even the copies, tell a story of real 
talent. 

Miss Alcott wrote to Mrs. Dodge : 

"January 20, 1880. 
" Dear Mrs. Dodge : 

" I have been so bowed down with grief at the 
loss of my dear sister, just when our anxiety was 
over, that I have not had a thought or care for any- 
thing else. 

"The story ["Jack and Jill"] is done; but the 
20 29s 



296 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

last chapters are not copied, and I thought it best to 
let them lie till I could give my mind to the work. 

" I never get a good chance to do a story w^ithout 
interruption of some sort. ' Under the Lilacs ' v^as 
finished by my mother's bedside in her last illness, 
and this one, when my heart was full of care and 
hope, and then grief over poor May. 

" I trust the misery did not get into the story ; 
but I'm afraid it is not as gay as I meant most of it 
to be. . . . 

" I don't believe I shall come to New York this 
winter. May left me her little daughter for my 
own ; and if she comes over soon, I shall be too busy 
singing lullabies to one child to write tales for 
others, or go anywhere, even to see my kind friends. 

" A sweeter little romance has just ended in Paris 
than any I can ever make, and the sad facts of life 
leave me no heart for cheerful fiction. 

" Yours truly, 

" L. M. Alcott." 

In March, came a box full of mementoes of May ; 
her pictures, clothes, ornaments, and her sunny hair, 
tied with blue ribbon. It was a sad day for them, 
full of memories and tears; but even sad days can- 
not last forever, and Louisa's heart began to turn 
longingly toward her little namesake over the sea. 
But prudent grandmamma Nieriker suggested that 
the fall would be the best time for so young a trav- 
eler to venture across the Atlantic. 



NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 297 

This was a hope to build on, something to look 
forward to, and Louisa set to work at once to pre- 
pare for her baby, with all the loving forethought 
of a mother. Little Lulu was to be brought by her 
Aunt Sophie, who had promised May to see her dar- 
ling safe with " Aunt Weedy," and Miss Alcott, 
wishing to relieve her of some of the care, sent over 
a responsible woman to help her. In the meantime 
the threads of work were slowly picked up, and St. 
Nicholas by degrees became the chief market for 
her stories. Her brain, active once more, was full 
of new plans and ideas ; many of these went into 
short stories, for as yet she would not bind herself 
to anything more. 

" If I write a serial," she wrote Mrs. Dodge, 
" you shall have it ; but I have my doubts as to the 
leisure and quiet, needed for such tasks, being pos- 
sible with a year-old baby. Of course little Lu is 
a very remarkable child, but I fancy I shall feel as 
full of responsibility as a hen with one chick, and 
cluck and scratch industriously for the sole benefit 
of my daughter. She may, however, have a literary 
turn, and be my assistant, by offering hints and giv- 
ing studies of character for my work. She comes 
in September, if well. 

" If I do begin a new story, how would * An Old- 
Fashioned Boy ' and his life do? I meant that for 
the title of a book, but another woman took it. You 
proposed a Revolutionary tale once, but I was not 
up to it; for this, I have quaint material in my 



298 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

father's journals, letters, and recollections. He was 
born with the century, and had an uncle in the War 
of 1812; and his life was very pretty and pastoral 
in the early days. I think a new sort of story 
wouldn't be amiss, with fun in it, and the queer old 
names and habits. I began it long ago, and if I 
have a chance, will finish off a few chapters and 
send them to you if you like. 

" Yours cordially, 

" L. M. Alcott." 

It had been a dream of Louisa's to build a lengthy 
story around her father's boyhood. She always felt 
that his riper years had not been appreciated, and 
she longed to bring him before the public — as him- 
self — not as the grandfather of " Little Women." 
But after all, the book was never written. New in- 
terests came crowding into her life, baby arms were 
soon to be flung around her neck demanding " more 
towries, Aunt Wee-wee," and her thoughts went 
back to the stories that had pleased children in the 
bygone days. 

In April, she was feeling so " sad and poorly " 
that she went to Boston for a change, which she 
seemed to enjoy. It was during this visit that thirty 
girls from Boston University called upon her. She 
forgot her aches, told them stories, showed them 
pictures, and wrote autographs. 

" Pleasant to see so much innocent enthusiasm, 
even about so poor a thing as a used-up old woman. 



NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 299 

Bright girls! Simple in dress, sensible ideas of life, 
and love of education. I wish them all good luck." 

May and June were full of varied interest. They 
were now comfortably settled in Anna's house, and 
were preparing the old Orchard House for its new 
tenant, Mr. W. T. Harris. Louisa was never idle 
when at home. She writes about a huge picnic : 

" North End Mission Children at Walden Pond. 
Help give them a happy day — eleven hundred of 
them. Get Anna and John ofif to Walpole. Cleaned 
house." 

The last item did not mean that she overlooked 
the servants, but that she " turned in " herself, with 
her own capable hands. 

" J^ine 24th — Lizzie's birthday and Johnny's. He 
is fifteen, a lovely, good boy, whom everyone loves. 
Got the Dean [her father's title as head of the 
School of Philosophy] a new suit of clothes, as he 
must be nice for his duties at the school. Plato's 
toga was not so costly, but even he did not look bet- 
ter than my handsome old philosopher. 

" July and August — To York with boys. Rest 
and enjoy the fine air. Home in August, and let 
Anna go down. Four hundred callers since the 
school began. . . ." 

From York, she wrote to Mr. Niles about the new 
illustrated edition of " Little Women " : 

" York, July 20, 1880 — The drawings are all 
capital, and we had great fun over them down here 



300 



LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 



this rainy day. . . . Mr. Merrill certainly deserves a 
good penny for his work. Such a fertile fancy and 
quick hand as his should be well paid, and I shall 
not begrudge him his well-earned compensation, nor 
the praise I am sure these illustrations will earn. It 
is very pleasant to think that the lucky little story 
has been of use to a fellow-worker, and I am much 
obliged to him for so improving on my hasty pen- 
and-ink sketches. What a dear, rowdy boy Teddy 
is, with the felt basin on. . . . Come and see how 
cozy we are next October, at 80 Pinckney Street. 
Miss N. will receive. 

" Yours truly, L. M. A." 

" Got things ready for my baby, warm wrapper, 
and all the dear can need on her long journey. On 
the 2ist saw Mrs. Giles [who went for baby] off; 
the last time I went it was to see May go. She was 
sober and sad, not gay as before; seemed to feel it 
might be a longer voyage than we knew. The last 
view I had of her was standing alone, in the long 
blue cloak, waving her hand to us, smiling with 
wet eyes till out of sight. How little we dreamed 
what an experience of love, joy, pain, and death she 
was going to ! 

" September — Put papers in order, and arrange 
things generally, to be in order when our Lulu 
comes. Make a cozy nursery for the darling, and 
say my prayers over the little white crib that waits 
for her." 



NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 301 

On the i8th, Miss Alcott went to Boston to meet 
the steamer, due on the 19th. She waited on the 
Avharf with a full heart, watching for her baby, and 
wondering if she could pick her out from among the 
many she saw coming ofT the ship. At last the cap- 
tain appeared, holding in his arms a tiny, yellow- 
haired creature, all in white, who looked about her 
with lively blue eyes, and chattered in her baby way. 
Mrs. Giles walked beside her, and close behind came 
Aunt Sophie, " A lovely, brown-eyecl girl." 

The meeting is best described in Miss Alcott's 
own words : 

" I held out my arms to Lulu, only being able to 
say her name. She looked at me for a moment, then 
came to me, saying ' Marmar ' in a wistful way, 
resting close, as if she had found her own people 
and home at last — as she had, thank Heaven! I 
could only listen while I held her, and the others 
told their tale. Then we got home as soon as we 
could, and dear baby behaved very well, though 
hungry and tired. 

" The little princess was received with tears and 
smiles, and being washed and fed, went quietly to 
sleep in her new bed, while we brooded over her, 
and were never tired of looking at the little face of 
* May's baby.' " 

Little Lulu quickly found her place in the hearts 
of the family. She was not beautiful at first, but 
she blossemed out wonderfully when the sea tan left 
her face, and the yellow hair looked less like the 



302 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

down of a chicken. " A happy thing, laughing and 
waving her hands, confiding and bold, with a keen 
look in the eyes so like May, who hated shams, 
and saw through them at once. She always comes 
to me, and seems to have decided that I am really 
* Marmar.' My heart is full of pride and joy, and 
the touch of the dear little hands seems to take away 
the bitterness of grief. I often go at night to see 
if she is really here, and the sight of the little head 
is like sunshine to me. Father adores her, and she 
loves to sit in his strong arms. They make a pretty 
picture, as he walks in the garden with her to * see 
birdies.' Anna tends her as she did May, who was 
her baby once, being ten years younger, and we all 
find life easier to live, now the baby has come." 

The young sister-in-law proved most attractive, 
and as Concord was dull for a girl who had been 
used to much gayety, Louisa decided to take a house 
in town for the winter, where she and the boys 
could have a pleasant time. 

Her mind was free to enjoy her baby and her new 
friend, for " Jack and Jill " supplied the needs of 
her exacting young readers for a time at least. 

Only a simple tale, of simple country life, sweet 
and wholesome as a sound apple. Her dedication — 

" TO THE SCHOOLMATES 

of 

ELLSWORTH DEVENS, 

whose lovely character will not soon be forgotten," 



NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 303 

tells something of the story, for Ed Devlin is surely 
none other than the lamented comrade of the Con- 
cord boys and girls. In Mrs. Minot we have her sis- 
tei Anna, for Minot was a name that took root in 
the Pratt family, and the two boys, Frank and Jack, 
were most certainly her nephews, Fred and John. 

All their favorite nooks and out-of-the-way cor- 
ners she described most vividly. 

To those familiar with Concord and its neighbor- 
hood, the story no doubt holds added interest. Mer- 
ry and Molly and Jill are such real girls, that we 
should like to know their living models, while Bahy 
Boo was too lively for a " make-believe " boy. Har- 
mony Village of course meant Concord, and the 
tranquil river, with its wooded shores and distant 
hills, its cool, rippling breezes and its beautiful sun- 
sets, has ever been a favorite playground for the 
young ones of the village. 

The tale grows grave in parts, owing to the 
author's heavy heart, but in the chapter called " A 
Sweet Memory," a tribute to the memory of her 
favorite Ellsworth Devens, we gather something of 
the simple beauty of Miss Alcott's own creed; for 
this may be said of her, as it can be said of few, 
she practiced as she preached, and the same peace- 
fulness which stole into the children's hearts after 
the burial of their friend was her own, as she dried 
her eyes and " remembered her mercies." 

The baby made her young, the tired brain found 
rest in planning infant tales; new plays had to be 



304 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

invented, new romps instituted ; of course she turned 
for help to the boys, and the new Hfe stirred her 
blood. 

Lulu's first birthday was a trying time, remem- 
bering- what her coming had cost them, but the 
birthday ceremonies were all kept. There was a 
cake with one candle, a crown for the queen, a silver 
mug, picture books, toys, flowers, and plenty of 
sunshine for Baby Lu. 

The next years passed uneventfully; playing 
mother was great fun, and in bringing up the little 
girl, Louisa used many of the methods which had 
proved so successful with herself and her sisters. 
Her old cheerfulness gradually came back to her, 
and though her days revolved about her child, they 
were happy days. In a letter to a friend she writes 
of Lulu : " I wish you could see the pretty creature, 
who already shows many of her mother's traits and 
tastes. Her love of pictures is a passion, but she 
will not look at the gay ones most babies enjoy. 
She chooses the delicate, well-drawn, and painted 
figures of Caldecott and Miss Greenaway. Over 
these she broods with rapture, pointing her little 
fingers at the cows or cats, and kissing the chil- 
dren, with funny prattling to these dumb playmates. 
She is a fine, tall girl, full of energy, intelligence 
and health; blonde and blue-eyed like her mother, 
but with her father's features, for which I am glad, 
for he is a handsome man. Louisa May bids fair 
to be a noble woman, and I hope I may live to see 



NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 305 

May's child as brave, and bright, and talented as 
she was, and much happier in her fate." 

On Lulu's second birthday, she had tivo kisses, a 
cake with two candles, a new chair and a doll's car- 
riage, toys, pictures, and flowers. She was escorted 
downstairs in state, and petted and purred over all 
day. She was a sweet, generous child, with strong 
affections. On one occasion a poor woman from 
Illinois wrote Miss Alcott, begging her to send some 
Christmas gifts to her children, as she could not 
afford to buy any. They had asked her to write 
to Santa Claus, and so she applied to Miss Alcott, 
who sent a box, and wrote a story about it; little 
Lulu was much interested and wanted to give every- 
thing she had to " poor little boys." 

Quite early the young lady learned where flowed 
the story-telling fountain, and " Aunt Wee-wee " 
was taxed sometimes a dozen a day. Anything 
about lambs, piggies, and " tats " was immensely 
enjoyed, and certainly the big aunt and little niece 
had many interesting times together. 

In April, 1882, Mr. Emerson was ill, and Mr. 
Alcott went to see him. Emerson had been the sun- 
shine of his life for many years, he had believed in 
him when others had only laughed; he had helped 
him in his need, in a hundred gentle, quiet ways, and 
had been to them all the kindest and truest of 
friends. Now the useful life was coming to an end, 
and there was deep sorrow in Concord. On April 
27th, Louisa writes in her journal : 



3o6 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

"Mr. Emerson died at 9 p.m. suddenly. Our 
best and greatest American gone. The nearest and 
dearest friend father ever had, and the man who has 
helped me most, by his life, his books, his society. 
I can never tell all he has been to me, from the time 
I sang Mignon's song under his window (a little 
girl) — and wrote letters, a la Bettine,. to him, my 
Goethe, at fifteen, up through my hard years when 
his essays on Self-Reliance, Character, Compensa- 
tion, Love, and Friendship helped me to understand 
myself, and Life, and God, and Nature, Illustrious 
and beloved friend, good-by! 

" Sunday, ^oth — Emerson's funeral. I made a 
yellow lyre of jonquils for the church, and helped 
trim it up. Private services at the house, and a 
great crowd at the church. Father read his sonnet, 
and Judge Hoar and others spoke. Now he lies in 
Sleepy Hollow — among his brothers, under the 
pines he loved." 

Louisa sat up till midnight writing an article on 
Emerson, for The Youth's Companion, that the chil- 
dren might know something of him, and the power 
he was in the world. 

From time to time, she has put her memory of 
him into articles for different periodicals. There 
was no halfway admiration for this great thinker ; he 
had been her idol from the time she first grasped 
what greatness really was, until the brilliant light 
went out forever. Naturally she used his name and 
example in making Concord a temperance town, 



NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 307 

for in May, twenty-seven boys signed the pledge. 
The reform was mucli needed there, and Louisa 
worked for the cause with all her old energy. 

In June, she paid a sad little visit to Alice Bartlett, 
their companion on the trip abroad. " A queer 
time," she writes, " driving about, or talking over 
our year in Europe. School children called upon 
me, with flowers, and so forth. 

" June 24th — John's seventeenth birthday. K 
dear boy, good and gay, full of love, manliness, and 
all honest and lovely traits, like his father and 
mother. Long life to my boy ! " 

In July, the School of Philosophy opened in full 
force. " The first year," writes Miss Alcott, " Con- 
cord people stood aloof, and the strangers found it 
hard to get rooms. Now everyone is eager to take 
them, and the school is pronounced a success, be- 
cause it brings money to the town. Even philos- 
ophers can't do without food, beds, and washing, so 
all rejoice, and the new craze flourishes. If all our 
guests paid we should be well off; several hundred 
a month is rather wearing. Father asked why we 
never went, and Anna showed him a long list of 
four hundred names of callers, and he said no 
more." 

In October, she went to Boston with John, for a 
short stay, leaving Lulu at home; she needed the 
quiet, though she missed her baby. She took rooms 
at the Bellevue, her haven of rest, and she began to 
think of stories once more. Mrs. Dodge wanted a 



3o8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

serial, and " Jo's Boys " suggested itself to her 
mind. She had scarcely made a good beginning, 
however, when a telegram called her home. Mr. 
Alcott had a paralytic stroke, which left him dumb 
and helpless. The change in the life of the active 
old man was very pathetic, and his family became 
anxious about him. His daughter writes: 

" The forty sonnets of last winter, and the fifty 
lectures at the school last summer, were too much 
for a man of eighty-three. He was warned by Dr. 
W., but thought it folly to stop; and now poor 
Father pays the penalty of breaking the laws of 
health. I have done the same ; may I be spared this 
end!" 

It was a strange thing about Louisa and her 
work; given a quiet, even stretch, with no care nor 
worry, her fancy flowed tranquilly, and the results 
were not noticed; but a serious illness always acted 
as a mental spur. It was her time for story-telling, 
for, as we well know, her best tales were written 
under high pressure. Her father's slow improve- 
ment gave her an opportunity to slip away to Boston 
once in a while, and on one of these trips she began 
a book called " Genius." 

" Shall never finish it, I dare say, but must keep 
a vent for my fancies to escape at. This double life 
is trying, and my head will work as well as my 
hands." 

She took Lulu to Boston for a month, to the little 
girl's delight, for Boston was a new world to her, 



NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 309 

and she enjoyed the walks and the petting- she got 
from everyone. 

On April 6th, she went home to stay; her father 
needed her, and the housekeeping was too heavy a 
burden for Anna alone. She wrote a story for St. 
Nicholas at odd moments, and during that summer 
took care of Lulu, for a competent nurse was hard 
to find, " so my poor baby has a bad time, with her 
little temper and active mind and body. Could do it 
myself if I had the nerves and strength, but am 
needed elsewhere, and must leave the child to some 
one. Long to go away with her and do as I like. 
Shall never lead my own life." 

" July — Go to Nonquitt with Miss H. and Lulu 
for the summer. A quiet, healthy place, with pleas- 
ant people and fine air. Turn Lulu loose, with H. 
to run after her, and try to rest. 

" Lulu takes her first bath in the sea — very bad ; 
walks off toward Europe up to her neck, and is 
much afBicted that I won't let her go to the bottom 
and see the * little trabs ' ; makes a cupid of herself 
and is very pretty and gay. The boys revel in the 
simple pleasures of Nonquitt — a fine place for them 
to be in." 

Hereafter, Nonquitt was to them all a haven of 
delight. Louisa was persuaded to buy a home there, 
and as the place was swarming with young people, 
she was in her element, and never happier than when 
among them. The days were spent on the beach, 
watching the bathers and sunning herself in the 



3IO LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

sands. The evenings were gay with charades and 
private theatricals. The two boys had the family 
talent, Fred in particular being an excellent come- 
dian, and though Louisa's acting was a thing of 
the past, on account of the exertion, Anna occasion- 
ally took old women's parts, and the youngsters 
came in for a fine drilling. And here her eldest 
nephew had his first sip of a real romanc-e, which 
blossomed later into true love and a happy marriage. 
Miss Alcott writes to her friend, Mrs. Williams, of 
Nonquitt and its charms : 

"... My poppet is a picture of health, vigor, 
and delightful naughtiness. She runs wild in this 
fine place, with some twenty other children to play 
with, nice babies, well bred, with pleasant mammas 
for me to gossip with. 

" It would be a pleasant place for your little peo- 
ple, as the air is delicious, bathing safe and warm, 
and cottages to be quiet in, if one cares to keep 
house. Do try it next year. Let me know early. 
I can get a nice little cot for you (near mine) for 
one hundred dollars or perhaps less, from June to 
October — if you care to stay. 

" We have been here since July, and are all 
hearty, brown, and gay as larks. Lulu has some 
trifling ailment now and then — just enough to show 
me how dear she is to us all, and what a great void 
the loss of our little girl would make in hearts and 
home. She is very intelligent and droll. When I 
told her the other day that the crickets were hopping 



NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 311 

and singing in the grass with their mammas, she 
said at once : ' No, their Aunt Weedys.' Auntie is 
nearer than Mother to the poor baby and it is very 
sweet to have it so, since it must be." 



" The older birthdays are 29th of November, 
Lulu's the 8th ; so we celebrate for Grandpa, Auntie, 
and Lulu all at once, in great style — eighty-three, 
fifty, and three years old. 

" When I get on my pins, I am going to devote 
myself to settling poor souls who need a gentle 
boost in hard times." 

The history of the next few years is pleasant and 
tranquil. Mr. Alcott slowly rallied from his first 
attack, and Louisa spent her time between Concord 
and Boston, sometimes feeling like her old self, 
sometimes so weary and nervous, that it took all 
her courage to get along. John and Lulu were 
her stand-bys at such times; the boy so tender and 
strong to lean upon, the little girl so sweet and 
winning. Miss Alcott did not believe in hard meas- 
ures with children, but in January, 1884, she writes : 
" New Year Day is made memorable by my 
solemnly spanking my child. Miss C. [her gover- 
ness] and others assure me it is the only way to 
cure her wilfulness. I doubt it; but knowing that 
mothers are usually too tender and blind, I correct 
my dear in the old-fashioned way. She proudly 

says : * Do it, do it,' and when it is done, is heart- 
21 



312 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

broken at the idea of Aunt Wee-wee's giving her 
pain. Her bewilderment is pathetic, and the effect, 
as I expected, a failure. Love is better, but also 
endless patience." 

The history of her work is very fitful. " Jo's 
Boys " was still in progress, as it was destined to be 
for some years, for the tired, overworked brain 
could not stand much. She busied herself with short 
stories for St. Nicholas, and collecting the many she 
had on hand into book form. The best known of 
these story-books compiled at that time are " Spin- 
ning-Wheel Stories" and "Proverb Stories." "Lu- 
lu's Library " came later, and a " Garland for 
Girls " the last of all. Concerning the " Spinning- 
Wheel Stories," she wrote Mrs. Dodge: 

" I like the idea of " Spinning- Wheel Stories," 
and can do several for a series, which can come out 
in a book later. Old-time tales, with a thread run- 
ning through all, from the wheel that enters in the 
first one. 

" A Christmas party of children might be at an 
old farmhouse, and hunt up the wheel, and grandma 
spins and tells the first story ; and being snow-bound, 
others amuse the young folks each evening with 
more tales. . . . 

" Being at home and quiet for a week or so, . . . 
I have begun the serial, and done two chapters ; but 
the Spinning tales come tumbling into my mind so 
fast, I'd better pin a few while * genius burns.' Per- 
haps you would like to start the set Christmas. The 



NEW INTERESTS AND NEW FRIENDS. 313 

picture being ready, the first story can be done in a 
week. ' Sophie's Secret ' can come later. 

" The serial was to be * Mrs. Gay's Summer 
School/ and have some city girls and boys go to an 
old farmhouse, and, for fun, dress and live as in 
old times, and learn the good, thrifty, old ways, with 
adventures and fun thrown in. That might come 
in the spring as it takes me longer to grind yarns 
now than of old. 

" Glad you are better. Thanks for the kind 
wishes for the little house ; come and see it, and 
gladden the eyes of forty young admirers by a sight 
of M.M.D. next year." 

In another letter, headed 31 Chestnut Street, 
December 31st, she writes: "A little cousin, thir- 
teen years old, has written a story and longs to see 
it in print. It is a well-written bit, and pretty good 
for a beginner, so I send it to you, hoping it may 
find a place in the children's corner. She is a grand- 
child of S. J. May, and a bright lass, who paints 
nicely, and is a domestic little person in spite of her 
budding accomplishments. Good luck to her. 

" I hoped to have a Christmas story for someone, 
but am forbidden to write for six months, after a 
bad turn of vertigo. So I give it up and take warn- 
ing. All good wishes for the New Year. 
" From yours affectionately. 

" L. M. Alcott." 

After this Miss Alcott was more or less under the 



314 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

doctor's orders. In another letter to Mrs. Dodge, 
she says: 

" I cannot promise anything, but hope to be al- 
lowed to write a little, as my doctor has decided that 
it is as well to let me put on paper the tales * knock- 
ing at the saucepan lid and demanding to be taken 
out ' (like Mrs. Cratchet's poCatoes) as to have them 
go on worrying me inside. So I'm scribbling at 
' Jo's Boys ' — long promised to Mr. Niles, and 
clamored for by the children. I may write but one 
hour a day, so cannot get on very fast; but if it 
is ever done, I can think of a serial for St. Nicholas, 
and can easily start it for '88, if head and hand 
allow. I will simmer on it this summer, and see if 
it can be done. Hope so, for I don't want to give 
up work so soon." 

Poor Louisa! in harness to the last! Her work 
had become as dear to her heart as if it were her 
own flesh and blood; to give it up would be like 
yielding a part of her life. She was not an old 
woman; with health she would have been in her 
prime, with a brain as strong and energetic and far 
better stored than in the old days of " pot-boilers " 
and scanty pay. But the engine panted even on the 
level grade, and the reckless engineer had to slacken 
speed, and yield the throttle into other hands. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



A LOVING MEMORY. 




jHE next few years were records of wan- 
ing strength, care for her father, deHght 
in the Httle girl, chnging to the one sister 
left her, and joy and pride in " the boys." 
They were young men now, and a great comfort. 
John she decided to adopt. She knew that, with 
herself and her father, the Alcott name would die 
out, and in making John her legal " son and heir " 
it was with the stipulation that he should take the 
name of Alcott. 

After years of struggle with ill-health, " Jo's 
Boys," her last promise to the eager public, saw the 
light. In reading the book, so full of memories, 
we truly begin to realize that nearly twenty years 
had passed since the publication of " Little Women," 
and that the young people who pored over those 
fascinating pages were now grave men and women, 
bending their heads in absorbed interest over " Jo's 
Boys." 

Her preface is pathetic when we look back on the 
pages of her life : 

" Having been written at long intervals during the 
315 



3i6 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

past seven years, this story is more faulty than its 
predecessors, but the desire to atone for an unavoid- 
able disappointment, and to please my patient little 
, friends, has urged me to let it go without delay. 

" To account for the seeming neglect of Amy, let 
me add, that since the original of the character died, 
it has been impossible for me to write of her, as 
when she was here to suggest, criticise, and laugh 
over her namesake. The same excuse applies to 
Marmee. But the folded leaves are not blank to 
those who knew and loved them, and can find me- 
morials of them in whatever is cheerful, true, or 
helpful in these pages," 

The story was completed at her sister's home in 
Concord. The old house had grown into a most at- 
tractive dwelling, its yellow tint standing out clear 
cut amid the evergreens surrounding it. Miss 
Alcott had improved it from time to time, until 
Thoreau himself would scarcely have recognized its 
interior. 

Mr, Alcott's library, which had been one of the 
additions, was built back of the drawing-room, and 
was a most delightful place, with its low ceilings, 
well-lined bookshelves, and interesting mementoes 
of the family. Just above the library was Louisa's 
special sanctum, a large sunny room overlooking the 
beloved river, with its background of hills. Each 
window framed a beautiful picture, and safe in this 
retreat, the literary spider could spin her web un- 
disturbed, and here " Jo's Boys " rounded itself out 



A LOVING MEMORY. 317 

to the desired end. She winds up the story in this 
fashion : 

"And now having endeavored to suit everyone 
by many weddings, few deaths, and as much pros- 
perity as the eternal fitness of things will permit, let 
the music stop, the lights die out, and the curtain 
fall forever on the March family." 

This was sadly prophetic; with the completion of 
" Jo's Boys," her real work ended. There were 
short stories now and then, " A Garland for Girls " 
being written as a pastime while under the doctor's 
care. In the writing of " Jo's Boys," the usual 
" vortex " threatened, but an attack of vertigo 
frightened her into a week's illness, with sleepless 
nights. " Head worked like a steam engine," she 
.writes, " would not stop. Planned * Jo's Boys ' to 
the end, and longed to get up and write it. Told 
Dr. \V. that he had better let me get the idea out, 
then I could rest. He very wisely agreed, and said : 
* As soon as you can, write half an hour a day and 
see if it does you good. Rebellious brains want to 
be attended to, or trouble comes.' So I began as 
soon as able, and was satisfied we were right, for 
my head felt better very soon, and with much care 
about not overdoing, I had some pleasant hours 
when I forgot my body and lived in my mind." 

After that, she wrote one or two hours a day and 
felt no ill effects. During the winter of 1886, Miss 
Alcott took a furnished house in Boston. It was 
delightfully situated in Louisburg Square, and all 



3l8 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

were pleased with the arrangement. Anna could be 
near her boys, who were in business, Louisa could 
have her child and work as well, and poor, feeble 
Mr. Alcott would enjoy the change. 

Whenever there was a move — and the Alcott 
family could never stay on and on in the same place 
— the rummaging spirit came upon Louisa. This 
time it took the form of sorting and burning letters 
too private for the gossip lovers to print. This was 
not good for her ; for days she lived over her past — 
they were only simple annals, to be sure, a mingling 
of dead rose leaves with the scent of lavender — 
but these old memories stayed her hand, and she be- 
gan to think that it might be well to keep some rec- 
ord of her life, that others might read and profit by 
her experience. It was this kindly thought for the 
coming generations that gave to the lovers of her 
books a closer view of the author. So we see her 
first impulse was to destroy all record of herself; 
but, living for others as she had done all her life, 
she paused in time. 

The portraits in " Jo's Boys " are very lifelike. 
Jo has grown older, but like Louisa herself, never 
too old to be a girl at heart; Meg mellowed with 
the years into a sweet and tender matron; the boys 
and girls had all grown up, fulfilling their separate 
destinies in their own way, and her pet black sheep, 
the untamable Dan, worked his own salvation in 
the end. 

Even the School of Philosophy had its portrait 



A LOVING MEMORY. 319 

painted in a flattering way, for it rose as a college 
on the hilltop, and Mr. Bhaer, as president, and Mr. 
March, as chaplain, lived to see their long-cherished 
dream beautifully realized. Perhaps the picture of 
Nan is the most vivid, for that restless young per- 
son had many of Louisa's own traits, and certainly 
the free and independent life Nan led would have 
been her own portion, had she been able to choose. 
But we miss " Marmee," and the shadowy outlines 
of Mrs. Amy makes her figure seem unreal. For the 
rest, our " little men " grown up are most satis- 
factory, and, needless to say, the fifty thousand of 
the first edition sold fast. In spite of this, her own 
opinion of " Jo's Boys " was not favorable. Her 
best work was always done at top speed. In her 
days of comparative health such a task could have 
been accomplished in a month at most, but creep- 
ing along as she did, with long intervals between the 
parts, made, to her own thinking, a most unsatisfac- 
tory result. The only illustration in the book is the 
bas-relief of her own head, taken from the sculp- 
tured piece by Walter Ricketson, a young artist, to 
whom she had been much help. She says in a letter 
to Mr. Niles: 

" Sorry you don't like the bas-relief; I do. A 
portrait, if bright and comely, wouldn't be me, and 
if like me, would disappoint the children; so we 
had better let them imagine * Aunt Jo young and 
beautiful, with her hair in two tails down her back ' ; 
as the little girl said." The little girl she refers to 



320 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

was a young Southerner, who visited Boston soon 
after the publication of " Little Women." She was 
taken to Concord on a special pilgrimage to see the 
author, and breathlessly waited for her idol. When 
she saw her she burst into tears of disappointment, 
and would not be comforted. 

Her mind now hovered between a novel for Mr. 
Niles and a serial for Mrs. Dodge. " I have a dozen 
plots in my head," she says, " but think the serial 
had better come first. I want a great deal of money 
for many things, and expenses increase. I am the 
only money-maker, and must turn the mill for 
others, though my own grist is ground and in the 
barn." 

Housekeeping in town, anxiety about her father, 
the coming and going of so many people, her own 
unsatisfactory work, told on the worn-out nerves. 
In the summer she was back in Concord, near her 
father, while the others went to the seashore. In 
September, they were again in the Boston house, but 
in December, Louisa broke down completely, and it 
was then she put herself under the care of Dr. 
Rhoda Lawrence, and became an inmate of her home 
at Dunreath Place, Roxbury, where, with few inter- 
vals, she remained during the rest of her life. 

She was beginning to see the disastrous effects of 
overwork. She had reached the stage when even 
the companionship of her family wore upon her 
nerves. It grieved her to be away from her home 
and all she loved ; her father was failing fast and she 



A LOVING MEMORY. 321 

longed to be to him the loving nurse she had been 
to the others in their need ; but the tired nerves could 
not bear the strain, rest was the only hope for her, 
and perfect quiet could be had at Dunreath Place. 

From that time Dr. Lawrence became friend and 
nurse, as well as physician, accompanying her pa- 
tient wherever she went. In the summer of 1887, 
she visited her father in Melrose; from there she 
went home to Concord to look over some papers, 
and complete the plan for adopting her nephew, and 
finished the season at Princeton (Mass.), which she 
enjoyed with all her old-time pleasure. But a sud- 
den attack of rheumatism and vertigo undid all the 
good, and she returned to Roxbury in a very nerv- 
ous state, the old aches and pains of bygone years 
springing up again like menacing ghosts. 

Louisa was too sensible a woman not to know 
how close she was creeping to the very margin of 
life; yet she planned out stories for years ahead, 
and sewed industriously for the poor, when not 
weaving " pot-boilers " from force of habit. It was 
during this seclusion that she wrote " A Garland 
for Girls," a group of short stories suggested by 
the beautiful flowers constantly sent her. She 
amused herself in many ways, but saw no company. 
She enjoyed writing and answering letters, and 
many a youthful ambition was warmed and nour- 
ished by her kindly words of advice ; from the 
young man who asked her if she would advise him 
to devote himself to authorship — ^as if she could 



322 



LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 



decide such a question — to the little chap who sent 
twenty-five cents to buy her books. She returned 
the money, explaining that it was not enough, but 
sent him " Little Men " as a present. 

She was delighted over the engagement of her 
nephew Fred. In a letter to her aunt, Mrs. Bond, 
March 15, 1887, she says: 

" I have been hoping to get out and see you all 
winter, but have been so ill I could only live on 
hope, as a relish to my gruel, that being my only 
food, and not of a nature to give me strength. 
The spring days will set me up, I trust, and my 
first pilgrimage shall be to you; for I want you to 
see how prettily my May-flower [her pet name for 
May's child] is blossoming into a fine offshoot of 
the old plant. 

" Lizzie Wells has probably told you of our news 
of Fred and his little bride, and Anna has written 
to you about it, as only a proud mamma can. 

"... I was sorry to hear that you were poorly 
again. Isn't it hard to sit serenely in one's soul 
when one's body is in a dilapidated state? I feel 
it a great bore, but try to do it patiently, and hope 
to see the why by and by, when this mysterious 
life is made clear to me. I had a lovely dream about 
that and want to tell it to you some day. Love 
to all. 

*' Ever yours, 

" L. M. A." 



A LOVING MEMORY. 323 

Mrs. Bond had her own corner in the affections 
of the entire family. It was through her kindness 
that May was able to take the first steps in her 
work, and all through their trials and struggles she 
had been a stanch and faithful friend. " Mar- 
mee's " death had brought her specially close to 
Louisa, who loved to write to her during those quiet 
days. 

Even as late as the spring and summer of 1887, 
Louisa was planning new work for the coming 
year. " A Modern Mephistopheles " w^as repub- 
lished under her own name, with one of her old 
stories, " A Whisper in the Dark," to round out the 
volume ; to this she wrote the following explanatory 
preface : 

" * A Modern Mephistopheles ' was written 
among the earlier volumes of the No Name Series, 
when the chief idea of the authors was to puzzle 
their readers as much as possible, that they might 
enjoy the guessing and criticism as each novel ap- 
peared. This book was very successful in preserv- 
ing its incognito, and many persons still insist that 
it could not have been written by the author of 
' Little Women.' As I much enjoyed trying to em- 
body a shadow of my favorite poem in the story, as 
well as the amusement it has afforded those in the 
secret for some years, it is considered well to add 
this volume to the few romances which are offered, 
not as finished work by any means, but merely at- 



324 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

tempts at something graver than magazine stories 
or juvenile literature. 

" L. M. Alcott." 



The romances to which she refers are " Work," 
" Moods," and " A Modern Mephistopheles," which 
Roberts Brothers were bringing out in uniform vol- 
umes. Another story was simmering, " A Tragedy 
of To-day." " I hope," she writes Mr. Niles, " to 
do ' A Tragedy of To-day ' this summer, and it can 
come out in the fall or next spring. ... A spunky 
new one would make the old ones go." 

In another letter to Mrs. Bond, she writes : " As 
you and I belong to the * Shut-in Society,' we may 
now and then cheer each other by a line. Your note 
and verse are very good to me to-day, as I sit trying 
to feel all right, in spite of the stififness that won't 
walk, the rebel stomach that won't work, and the 
tired head that won't rest. 

" My verse lately has been from a little poem 
found under a good soldier's pillow in the hospital : 

I am no longer eager, bold and strong, 

All that is past; 
I am ready not to do — 

At last — at last — 
My half-day's work is done, 
And this is all my part — 

I give a patient God 

My patient heart. 



A LOVING MEMORY. 325 

" The learning not to do is so hard after being 
the hub to the family wheel so long. But it is good 
for the energetic ones to find that the world can get 
on without them, and learn to be still, to give up, 
and wait cheerfully. 

" As we have ' fell into poetry,' as Silas Wcgg 
says, I add a bit of my own; for since you are 
IMarmee now, I feel that you won't laugh at my 
poor attempts any more than she did, even when 
I burst forth at the ripe age of eight." 

Perhaps the following lines were what she sent; 
at any rate, though written a year earlier, they seem 
most appropriate here, showing as they do, every 
side of her rich nature : 



My Prayer. 

Courage and patience, these I ask, 
Dear Lord, in this — my latest strait; 

For hard I find my ten years' task, 
Learning to suffer and to wait. 

Life seems so rich and grand a thing, 
So full of work for heart and brain, 

It is a cross that I can bring, 
No help, no oflfering, but pain. 

The hard-earned harvest of these years, 

I long to generously share; 
The lessons learned with bitter tears, 

To teach again with tender care; 



326 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

To smooth the rough and thorny way, 
Where other feet begin to tread; 

To feed some hungry soul each day, 
With sympathy's sustaining bread. 

So beautiful such pleasures show, 

I long to make them mine; 
To love and labor, and to know 

The joy such living makes divine. 

But if I may not, I will only ask 
Courage and patience for my fate. 

And learn, dear Lord, thy latest task, 
To suffer patiently and wait. 

To Mrs. Bond she sent the first author's copy of 
" Lulu's Library.'' She had always done this to 
her mother, and she felt that this well-loved aunt 
was a fitting representative of " Marmee." The 
book was made up of many of the old " Flower 
Fables," told long ago to her sister May and her 
playmates, and retold to Lulu, with many fresh 
touches. 

Her last birthday was a happy one, though still 
in seclusion. Letters, gifts and flowers came crowd- 
ing upon her, and she was feeling so much better 
that everyone began to hope for her recovery. 
After Christmas, there were busy preparations for 
Fred's wedding, in which Louisa took a deep in- 
terest, though she sat apart in her sanctuary. Her 
father began at this time to fail rapidly, and she 
wrote Mrs. Bond, February 7, i< 



A LOVING MEMORY. 327 

" Dear Auntie : 

" My blessed Anna is so busy [Fred was to be 
married next day], and I can do so little to help 
her, I feel as if I might take upon me the pleasant 
duty of writing to you. 

" Father is better, and we are all so grateful, for 
just now we want all to be bright for our boy. 

" The end is not far off, but Father rallies won- 
derfully from each feeble spell, and keeps serene 
and happy through everything. I don't ask to keep 
him, now that life is a burden, and . am glad to 
have him go before it becomes a pain. We shall 
miss the dear old white head, and the feeble saint, 
so long our care ; but as Anna says, * He will be 
with Mother.' So we shall be happy in the hope of 
that meeting. 

" Sunday he seemed very low, and I was allowed 
to drive in and say * good-by.' He knew me and 
smiled, and kissed ' Weedy,' as he calls me, and I 
thought the drowsiness and difficulty of breathing 
could not last long. But he revived, got up, and 
seemed so much as usual, I may be able to see him 
again. It is a great grief that I am not there as 
I was with Lizzie and Mother, but though much 
better, the shattered nerves won't bear much yet, 
and quiet is my only cure. 

" I sit alone, and bless the little pair, like a fond 

old grandmother. You show me how to do it. 

With love to all, 

" Yours ever, Lu." 

22 



328 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

Her last note to Mrs. Bond was : 

"February 8, 1888. 

"Air, 'Haste to the Wedding!' 
"Dear Auntie: 

" I little knew what a sweet surprise was in store 
for me when I wrote you yesterday. 

" As I worked this morning my good Dr. Law- 
rence came in with the lovely azalea, her round face 
beaming through the leaves like a full moon. 

" It is very dear of you to remember me and 
cheer up my lonely day with such a beautiful guest. 

" It stands beside me on Marmee's worktable, 
and reminds me tenderly of her favorite flowers. 
Among those used at her funeral was a spray of 
this, which lasted for two weeks afterwards, open- 
ing bud by bud in the glass on her table, where lay 
the dear old ' Jos May ' hymn book and her diary, 
with the pen shut in, just as she left it when she 
last wrote there, three days before the end. ' The 
twilight is closing about me, and I am going to rest 
in the arms of my children.' 

" So you see I love the delicate flower and enjoy 
it very much. 

" I can write now, and soon hope to come out 
and see you for a few minutes, as I drive out every 
fine day, and go and kiss my people once a week, for 
fifteen minutes. 

" Slow climbing, but I don't slip back ; so think 



A LOVING MEMORY. 329 

up my mercies, and sing cheerfully, as dear Marmee 
used to do. 

" ' Thus far the Lord has led me on ! ' 

" Your loving 

" Lu." 

Thus, with courage, patience, and beautiful faith, 
Louisa Alcott climbed higher and higher toward the 
Celestial City which from childhood she had seen 
afar. " The Pilgrim's Progress " had been her 
guiding star through life, as it had been her father's 
and her mother's before her, as it was, indeed, to 
the stanch Puritan from generation to generation. 

In the beautiful lines to her father on his eighty- 
sixth birthday, especially in the first and last 
stanzas, she shows how the wonderful allegory 
rounded out the measure of his years : 

Dear Pilgrim, waiting patiently 

The long, long journey nearly done, 
Beside the sacred stream that flows 

Clear shining in the western sun; 
Look backward on the varied road 

Your steadfast feet have trod, 
From youth to age, through weal and woe, 

Climbing forever nearer God. 

The staff set by, the sandals off, 
Still pondering the precious scroll, 

Serene and strong he waits the call 
That frees and wings a happy soul. 



330 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

There, beautiful as when it lured 

The boy's aspiring eyes, 
Before the Pilgrim's longing sight, 

Shall the Celestial City rise. 

Louisa was never afraid of death. To those she 
had loved, it had brought peace, and though the love 
of living was strong within her, she was content, 
as she said, to " wait patiently " God's will. 

Early in March, her father grew alarmingly 
worse. With aching heart, Louisa drove in to see 
him for the last time, and the last letter she ever 
wrote was penned just afterwards to her friend, 
Mrs. Porter, who had sent her a pretty picture of 
May. The little note reads as follows: 

" Dear Mrs. Porter : 

" Thanks for the picture, I am glad to have it. 
No philosophy is needed for the impending event. 
I shall be very glad when the dear old man falls 
asleep after his long and innocent life. Sorrow 
has no place at such times, and death is never ter- 
rible when it comes in the likeness of a friend. 
" Yours truly, 

" L. M. Alcott. 

" P.S. — I have another year to stay in my ' Saint's 
Rest,' and then I am promised twenty years of 
health. I don't want so many, and I have no idea 
I shall see them. But as I don't live for myself, I 
hold on for others, and shall find time to die some 
day, I hope." 



A LOVING MEMORY. 33I 

She had been lured by the mild weather to make 
some change in her dress, and absorbed in her own 
sad thoughts over the pain of parting, she forgot 
the fur wrap she usually wore. So like she was 
to a fragile hot-house plant, that the faintest whiff 
of air to which she was not accustomed was apt to 
prove disastrous. 

The next day she was stricken down ; merciful 
unconsciousness came to her like an angel of peace 
and rest, and on March 6, 1888, Louisa Alcott 
closed her weary eyes and " went out with the tide " 
to meet the father who had gone two days before. 



Over twenty years have passed since the dark 
hour when the children heard — " Louisa Alcott is 
dead," and thousands can recall the sorrow that 
filled their hearts, and the tears that dimmed their 
eyes. 

There are those who remember the simple funeral 
in her father's rooms, the touching words read over 
her, and the quiet burial at Concord in the ceme- 
tery of Sleepy Hollow, at the feet of those she 
loved the best, in the gracious company of the men 
and women who had been closest to her in her life. 

'" Her boys " went beside her as a guard of 
honor, and the girls hid their bright eyes, and wept 
for the dear, dead friend. 

But she was not dead ; Louisa Alcott's presence 
was too radiant to pass without leaving a stream 



332 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

of light behind. She Hves in her books, in the 
hearts of her readers, in the untold deeds of love 
and kindness, which were locked up in the great, 
generous soul. 

She was so modest that few people, outside of 
her own circle of friends, knew what charm of 
mind and person she possessed. She was tall, and 
in later years somewhat stately, with finely chiseled, 
rather massive features, and a wealth of chestnut 
hair, which waved over the fine forehead ; her com- 
plexion was brilliant, and her eyes were " glori- 
ously blue." As to expression, this beautiful son- 
net by Margaret Ashman, an ardent admirer, will 
best express what a thoughtful person read in the 
face of Louisa Alcott. 

On a Portrait of Miss Alcott. 

In all my fancies, when I was a child, 

I pictured her a princess, stately made — 

Fair-featured, rich, a new Sheherazade, 

On whom a kindly fate forever smiled. 

The blithesome story-teller, that beguiled 

The soul of childhood. Could her beauty fade, 

Her genius wane, her ready pen be stayed 

By grief or age? 'Twere heresy most wild 

To think these things. Now, where I musing stand, 

Her portrait hangs. This unassuming guise 

Shows, not a princess, haughty to command, 

But one most humble, human, sorrow-wise, 

Who seems to live and reach me forth her hand, 

A woman, simple, sweet, with tired eyes. 



A LOVING MEMORY. 333 

A woman ! That is what she strove to be, a 
strong-, self-reliant, practical woman, showing her 
more timid sisters the way to freedom, through 
high endeavors and noble purpose, never swerving 
from the path of duty through all the trials of her 
life. Her father wrote of her : 

When I remember with what buoyant heart, 

Midst war's alarms and woes of civil strife, 

In youthful eagerness, thou didst depart. 

At peril of thy safety, peace, and life, 

To nurse the wounded soldier, swathe the dead. 

How pierced soon by fever's poisoned dart, 

And brought, unconscious, home with 'wildered head. 

Thou ever since 'mid languor and dull pain. 

To conquer fortune, cherish kindred dear. 

Hast with grave studies vexed a sprightly brain, 

In myriad households kindled love and cheer. 

Ne'er from thyself by Fame's loud trump beguiled. 

Sounding in this and the farther hemisphere — 

I press thee to my heart, as Duty's faithful child. 

They are all sleeping now, under the pines they 
loved so well — all but May — though the simple 
stone marks her vacant corner. Mother, Father, 
Anna, Beth, with the baby brother, dead so long 
ago, and at their feet, guarding them, Louisa, that 
she might " take care " of them as she had done all 
her life. 

Little Lulu went back to her father and the years 
have touched her into charminsf womanhood. The 



334 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 

" boys " live on in Concord and Boston, with homes 
and families of their own, keeping green the mem- 
ory of the woman who gave them all she had, her 
love, her fortune, and the undimmed luster of her 
name. 



(1) 



1 



THE END. 



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New and Revised Edition. 112 Illustrations by A. B. 
Frost. Library Edition. i2mo. Cloth, gilt top, $2.00. 

"An exquisite volume, full of good illustrations, and if there is anybody 
m this country who doesn't know Mr. Harris, here is an opp)ortunity to make 
his acquaintance and have many a good laugh." — New York Herald. 

" Mr. Harris has made a real addition to literature purely and strikingly 
American, and Mr. Frost has aided in fixing the work indelibly on the con- 
sciousness of the American reader." — The Churchman. 

" We say it with the utmost faith that there is not an artist who works 
in illustration that can catch the attitude and expression, the slyness, the 
innate depra\'ity, the eye of surprise, obstinacy, the hang of the head or the 
kick of the heels of the mute and the brute creation as Mr. Frost has shown 
to us here." — Baltimore Sun. 

"Nobody could possibly have done this work better than Mr. Frost, 
whose appreciation of neg^o life fitted him especially to be the interpreter 
of ' Uncle Remus,' and wliose sense of the humor in animal life makes these 
drawings really illustrations in the fullest sense. Mr. Harris's well-known 
work has become in a sense a clsissic, and this may be accepted as the stand- 
ard edition." — Philadelphia Times. 

"The old tales of the plantation have never been told as Mr. Harris has 
told them. Each narrative is to the point, and so swift in its action upon 
the risibilities of the reader that one almost loses consciousness of the printed 
page, and fancies it is the voice of the lovable old darky himself that steals 
across the senses arid brings mirth inextinguishable as it comes." — New York 
Tribune. 

On the Plantation. 

With 23 Illustrations by E. W. Kemble, and Portrait 
of the Author. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 

" The book is in the characteristic vein which has made the author so 
famous and popular as an interpreter of plantation character." — Rochester 
Union and Advertiser. 

"Those who never tire of Uncle Remus and his stories — with whom we 
would be accounted — will delight in Joe Maxwell and his exploits." — London 
Saturday Review. 

" A charming little book, tastefully gotten up. . . . Its simplicity, humor, 
and individuality would be very welcome to any one who was weary of the 
pretentiousness and the dull obviousness of the average three-volume novel. " 
— London Chronicle. 

" Really a valuable, if modest, contribution to the history of the civil war 
within the Confederate lines, particularly on the eve of the catastrophe. 
Two or three new animal fables are introduced with effect ; but the history 
of the plantation, the printing-office, the black runaways, and white desert- 
ers, of whom the impending break-up made the community tolerant, the 
coon and fox hunting, forms the serious purpose of the book, and holds the 
reader's interest from beginninc; to end." — New York Evening Post. 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 



STORIES FOR YOUNG READERS 



JOURNEYS OF THE KIT KAT CLUB. Illus- 
trated. 8vo. $2.00 Net. 
By William R. A. Wilson. 

A beautifully illustrated volume filled with interesting and salient 
features of English history, folk-lore, politics, and scenery. 

BUTT CHANLER, FRESHMAN. Illustrated. 
i2mo. $i.SO. 

By James Shelley Hamilton, Amherst '06. 
College sports are always a subject of interest to young readers, 
and here are incidents that are dear to all college associates. 

"The story is breezy, bright, and clean." — The Bookseller, New 
York. 

WILLIAMS OF WEST POINT. Illustrated i2mo. 

$1.50. 

By Lieut. Hugh S. Johnson. 
A story of West Point under the old code. " Every boy with 
red blood in his veins will pronounce it a corker." — The Globe, 
Boston. 

THE SUBSTITUTE. Illustrated. i2mo. $i.so. 
By Walter Camp. 
" Presents the ideal to football enthusiasts. The author's name 
is guarantee of the accuracy of descriptions of the plays." — The 
Courant, Hartford, Conn. 

THE FOREST RUNNERS. Illustrated in Color. 
i2mo. $1.50. 
By Joseph A. Altsheler. 
This story deals with the further adventures of the two young 
woodsmen in the history of Kentucky who were heroes in "The 
Young Trailers." The story is full of thrills to appeal to every boy 
who loves a good story. 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 



A UNIQUE BOOK. 



"For children, parents, teachers, and all who are interested 
in the psychology of childhood.''^ 

The Book of Knight and Barbara. 

By David Starr Jordan. Illustrated. i2mo. 
Cloth, 1 1.50. 

The curious and fascinating tales and pictures of this unique 
book are introduced by Dr. Jordan with the following preface : 
'• The only apology the author can make in this case is that he 
never meant to do it. He had told his own children many 
stories of m-any kinds, some original, some imitative, some traves- 
ties of the work of real story-tellers. Two students of the de- 
partment of education in the Stanford University — Mrs. Louise 
Maitland, of San Jose, and Miss Harriet Hawley, of Boston — 
asked him to repeat these stories before other children. Miss 
Hawley, as a stenographer, took them down for future reference, 
and while the author was absent on the Bering Sea Commission 
of 1896 she wrote them out in full, thus forming the material 
of this book. Copies of the stories were placed by Mrs. Mait- 
land in the hands of hundreds of children. These drew illus- 
trative pictures, after their fashion ; and from the multitude 
offered, Mrs. Maitland chose those which are here reproduced. 
The scenes in the stories were also subjected to the criticisms 
of the children, and in many cases amended to meet their sug- 
gestions. These pictures made by the children have been found 
to interest deeply other children, a fact which gives them a 
definite value as original documents in the study of the workings 
of the child-mind. At the end of the volume are added a few 
true stories of birds and of beasts, told to a different audience. 
With these are a few drawings by university students, which are 
intended to assist the imagination of child-readers." 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 



BY GABRIELLE E. JACKSON. 



Little Miss Cricket. 

Little Miss Cricket's New Home. 

Illustrated. i2mo. $1.25 each. 

Two charming stories of a pathetic little heroine. 

The Joy of Piney Hill. 

Illustrated in color by Ruth M. Hallock. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
The story of a dear little girl who was in trouble and who was taken into 
a model school where she makes every one love her. 

Three Graces. 

Three Graces at College. 

With illustrations in tint by C. M. Relyea. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50 each. 

The first, a story of boarding school life, full of incident and wholesome 
characterization. The second, a charming story of college life, its ideals, 
recreations, temptations and rewards. 

Sunlight and Shadow. 

Four full-page illustrations in colors. i2mo. Ornamental cloth, 
$1.50. 

" A wholesome little tale is this, tingling with life and youthful spirits." 

— The Interior. 

Big Jack. 

Illustrated, izmo. Ornamental cloth, $1.00. 

" A book which every parent would show wisdom in putting in the libraries 
of his children." — Dayton Daily News. 

Little Miss Sunshine. 

Illustrated. i2mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.50. 

"A delightful, wholesome, readable book for girls." — Criterion. 

Little Comrade. 

Illustrated. i2mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.00. 

Every child should be taught the love of animals. This book teaches 
that love. 

The Colburn Prize. 

Illustrated. i2mo. Ornamental cloth, $1.00. 

Dedicated to the school-girls throughout the land. Nine full-page illustra- 
tions add to the charm of this exquisite gift book. 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 



